Leading By Example
by kelseymetro
Summary: Draco smiled slowly, a plan already forming in his head, “I think we need a role model, Blaise, a leader if you will; someone who can set an example..." HarryDraco Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: If I had my way Harry Potter would definitely belong to me...but alas, he does not.**

**I am, of course, still writing The Elemental but I figured I needed to write something to get my creativeness flowing, and what better way than to write a short story for you all!**

**I would also like to give some long overdue thanks to my Beta and to all of you who have favourite me as an Author. I was stunned by the amount of e-mails I received when I came back from my holiday.**

**Hope you like it. I'm planning on it being around 4 chapters probably. **

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__Here we go again._

Hearing the sobs grow louder, Draco quickened his pace to almost a jog. His heart immediately began draining blood away from his face and pumping it into his legs.

_So much for being lulled into a false sense of security. _

He was getting slightly out of breath but lately his fitness levels had increased dramatically. Last month, for example, he had almost been too late because he hadn't been fast enough.

A sharp cry pierced the air and echoed faintly around the corridor walls that Draco was now sprinting down. He had to get to them before they stopped crying out. If they could cry out they were still conscious.

His hand was clenching his wand tightly as he rounded the next corner faster than before. He skidded slightly with his wet shoes but quickly righted himself. He knew he always had trouble with that corner. Atleast he hadn't fallen this time. That would definitely have slowed him down and he needed speed right now.

The cry came again and oddly...it was of a higher pitch than Draco was used to. His ears strained to pick it up again. He had first thought it sounded masculine, but as he came closer to his destination he realised it sounded softer. Female.

His heart thudded faster as the thought entered his head. Surely they hadn't lowered themselves to that. If so they were cowards, the lot of them, and when Draco got his hands on them. Well, let's just say he expected their voices would be sounding a lot higher as well.

He bared his teeth fiercely and let out a soft growl of anger. He would find out who they were this time. He'd rip their infuriating masks right off their faces. He'd make sure nobody would think of taunting them again in such a way. He didn't even care that it was ironic or mocking. He just wanted it to stop.

The look on their faces as they lay curled up hurt something inside him. Not literally of course, and technically it shouldn't even be metaphorically. He was a Malfoy. They reminded him of that enough.

It always happened in his quarter as well. Never Pansy's or Blaise's. Always his. They were taunting him. Showing him he couldn't do anything to stop them. He didn't know why exactly it had started in the first place but he had a few theories. Perhaps it was grief or maybe vengeance that had formed this group; almost a club really, a club with a common purpose in mind:

To punish Slytherins.

Not all Slytherins, of course. People would have been plain idiotic to mess with some of the seventh year Slytherins. No, the targets were usually weaker.

The crying suddenly quieted dramatically and Draco's heart almost stopped. He pumped his legs forward not even aiming his wand at anything anymore. They wouldn't still be there now. They liked to leave their victims alone afterwards.

As the corridor straightened out into a pair of stairs, Draco's goal came into sight. She was lying curled up protectively as usual, a pair of glasses lying broken beside her. Her left hand was lying quiescently, just touched the bottom step. Draco knew she'd be at the bottom of the steps. It helped construct the perfect excuse afterwards if anyone found her that she had fallen down the stairs.

He jumped the last few steps, careful not to tread on her still body, and grasp her shoulders tightly. Merlin, she looked a mess. Her nose and mouth were leaking small droplets of blood and both her eyes were already beginning to form deep bruises. Judging by the dusty marks on her robes, Draco could also assume she had been kicked repeatedly.

He growled again before pulling himself together. He shook her shoulders lightly. "Hello? Can you hear me?" he asked urgently. The girl stirred and cracked her eyes open slightly, but then moaned lightly.

"No. Go away," she whimpered, her voice cracking, "I can't take anymore."

"It's okay," he reassured her, "I'm Draco Malfoy and we need to get you to the hospital wing so...up you get," he added this last bit more forcefully then before. He knew his authority in the house would get her moving and that was exactly what he needed her to do right now. He didn't suspect she had any broken bones. They didn't usually leave any lasting injuries, just bruises. And fear.

The small girl opened her eyes wider this time, her gaze steady with relief as she gazed at Draco. "Okay," she whispered softly before gritting her teeth in pain. With Draco's help she pushed herself to sitting position and then upwards. She faltered as she straightened up, and for one awful second Draco wondered if they had decided to break bones now. He gripped her steadier but she waved her hand weakly at him. "Nothing's broken," she said, her voice hoarse, "it just hurts."

He nodded quickly at her before tucking an arm around her waist. The hospital wing wasn't far. Draco would take her there...and then she could make up whatever excuse she wanted to. The people he had helped had never told anybody the truth. Maybe it was pride, hell maybe they'd even been convinced that they deserved what they had got, Draco didn't know anymore. He knew one thing though; he was going to stop these attacks.

Helping crying children to the hospital wing certainly wasn't doing much for his reputation. Atleast he was trying to convince himself that was why he wanted these attacks to stop.

He rolled his eyes once and tightened his grip on the latest victim. As much as he hated to admit it...he was starting to wonder if the war had installed some sort of noble intentions in him. They certainly hadn't been there before. The war had changed many people; some for the worse.

The girl had begun crying again and Draco quickly began rubbing her arm soothingly. "What's your name?" he asked briskly, trying to distract her from the pain. He probably wasn't doing a good job but hell; he'd never been good with crying females, even if they hadn't hit puberty yet.

"Lisa," she answered, sniffing slightly. Her eyes were cloudy but apart from the tears sliding down her cheeks she hadn't complained yet.

Draco felt a small amount of pride bloom in him. Atleast she was being brave about this.

"Right...and what year are you in Lisa?" he asked calmly. If she fell unconscious again he would need to tell Madam Pomfrey who she was. He half didn't want to know that answer thought and really hoped she wasn't going to say what he thought she was going to say.

"F...First," she wavered, obviously looking a little terrified at Draco's dark expression.

Well.

That just said it all didn't it?

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"Lisa, first year. Attacked last night by the Astronomy tower," Draco spat out quietly as he took his seat on the Slytherin table. He knew he wasn't being quiet enough. They could still probably hear him across the Great Hall but at this moment he couldn't really give a damn. Let them see how furious he was. After all, he was coming after them next.

Blaise choked on the muffin he was currently eating and banged himself hard on the chest. "Lisa?!" he whispered incredulously, "That sounds like a _girl's_ name!" His knuckles were stark white against his olive skin from gripping the table hard.

Draco gave him a half furious, half sarcastic look before rolling his eyes. "Well done, Blaise. How observant of you. And yes, before you ask me, they beat a small first year girl this time." Noticing the hurt look his friend was giving him, he relaxed his face slightly and carefully put on a blank expression. "Sorry, I'm just angry about this as well. Actually I think anger is an understatement at this point."

"I just can't believe they attacked a _girl_, and a first year at that. This has gone further than just grudges against families that fought on the side of the Dark Lord in the war. Hell, they're just using any excuse to fuck with us now," Blaise gritted out. Draco could see the depths of Blaise's eyes shadow over. He guessed if he looked in a mirror he'd see the same coldness in his own.

Draco nodded in response to Blaise's outburst, "I'm willing to bet that she wasn't even connected to _him_ in the slightest." He let out his breath steadily and moodily began placing food onto his plate. 

"Did you and Pansy see anything last night?" he asked absently. He knew what Blaise would say. It was what he always said.

"No. Coast was clear. We were hoping it had been a quiet night," he replied heavily.

Draco nodded again quickly and quirked a half smile, "Me too. Unfortunately, it was a little busier than I would have liked."

Blaise nodded sympathetically before tapping his fingers on the table. "What excuse did she use this time? Walked into a door? Fell down the stairs?" he asked bitterly.

Draco let out a harsh laugh before putting on a grimace. "Neither, actually. She said she thought she had been sleep walking...and had probably walked into a lot of doors whist she was at it." He sighed slightly, "We can't protect them Blaise. The most we can do is get them to the hospital wing quickly."

He put down his fork and finally asked the question that had been plaguing his mind since last night. "Is it just me Blaise or are things getting worse?"

"No Draco," Blaise replied quietly, his eyes downcast, "it's not just you."

There was silence for a few minutes and the sound of clinking cutlery filled the space their conversation had been.

"Then I expect," Draco surprised himself by saying, "it's about time we finally did something to stop it. I expect everyone else will agree with me that this is the last straw and they've got to be stupid if they think we're going to let something like this go." He locked eyes with Blaise who tightened his mouth in agreement.

"But what?" Blaise questioned, "The teachers are oblivious, well atleast most of them are, and it's not as if we can catch the people doing it." He scowled. "McGonagall seems to have only a mere inkling of what people are doing and it's not like she can do anything to stop it. The 'inspiring' speeches she's given us so far have barely halted the attacks." He put his head wearily down on the table, the black rings around his eyes standing out in contrast to his skin. Draco couldn't really judge though. If Blaise looked like crap, who knew what Draco looked like.

Putting that thought to the back of his head, Draco smiled slowly, a plan already forming in his head, "I think we need a role model, Blaise, a leader if you will; someone who can set an example for these 'bullies'." He eyes glinted dangerously as they surveyed the nearby tables. He knew the perfect person as well.

"No offense Draco, but I don't think you're the best person considering you're _in_ Slytherin," Blaise drawled sarcastically.

Draco just waved his hand however, "Don't worry Blaise," he reassured him, "I have someone far better in mind. Well maybe better isn't the word I was looking for, but he'll certainly do." His stormy eyes settled heavily on a certain green eyed wizard sitting on the furthest table from Slytherin. "We've just got to open his eyes a little to what's going on."

Oblivious to the worried looks Blaise was shooting him, a smirk spread itself across Draco's face. If Blaise thought that a furious Draco was something to worry about, he clearly hadn't seen Harry Potter in battle. It had definitely made Draco glad he had switched sides at the last moment. After all, there certainly was something mesmerising about watching Harry Potter cut his enemies down to size.

Draco couldn't wait.

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Right people, new story! You know what you need to do if you want to read more! If all goes well I could be updating as soon as tomorrow: D

**(Also, this might be kind of random but does anyone know when the next HP Film is coming out? I've been hearing different dates left, right and centre. Thanks.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property and creation of J.K Rowling. I'm pretty sure you guys can read since you're here so why don't you check the Author name at the top? Nope, I'm sure that says Kelseymetro...**

**I'm sorry to all you people fuming because of my incredibly **_**slow**_** updating of The Elemental. I'll get to it. I promise.**

**Did I intrigue people with my story? I do hope so. I think it's slightly darker than most of my other fics...but there's a first time for everything.**

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"Blaise it's not an idiotic idea. If you think about it, that's exactly what Potter needs to believe me," Draco explained patiently. Well sort of. He might have been gripping his wand a little tighter than necessary...

He carried on walking briskly before a hand snagged his elbow and spun him round again. Sighing, Draco raised an eyebrow and waited for the inevitable shouting to start.

"Are you bloody mad, Draco?! Of course it's a stupid idea! I mean, you're willing to let people _hit_ you to get Potter's attention! What if you get brain damage you dumb twat?!" Blaise demanded. His hand was actually squeezing Draco's arm tight enough to bruise now.

Shaking him off, Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to get brain damage. I'll probably just have a bruised nose and maybe some sore ribs for a while. I'm not planning on letting them go completely mental on me," Draco said slowly. He had explained this atleast four times before. The first two didn't really count though as no one could hear the details of Draco's plan over Blaise's outraged protesting.

It was as if Draco didn't understand the...obstacles of his idea. After all, if everything went according to plan Draco would have to make his way to the hospital wing from the quidditch pitch just before curfew. And if Potter asked questions liked Draco hoped he would, he'd have to wait even longer before get his nose healed.

Overall, he supposed letting Crabbe, Goyle and Millicent Bulstrode hit him was probably a major flaw in his otherwise manipulative plan. It would be manipulative as well, but for a good cause. If Draco didn't make the blind fool see what was happening in his own school directly, he'd go through living his Seventh year as obliviously as he had been previously.

Blaise sighed behind him loudly and Draco rolled his eyes.

He didn't care what Blaise thought. He knew he wasn't stupid; in fact this was one of his best plans recently. Sure he had been blinded with fury earlier and cursing the culprits to small slimy pieces had seemed like a brilliant idea, but in actuality it wouldn't have solved anything. The culprits would have retaliated and the Slytherin's would have been in worse trouble. No, this plan put a stop to the trouble at the source; show the tormentors that their way of grief was wrong.

Draco could hear Blaise take another deep breath, probably to start insisting that Draco was a few Wizard cards short of his collection again, and decided to cut him off.

"Blaise, I have thought this through. Countless times in fact, and nothing you could say to me right now would make me change my mind," Draco gritted out.

Blaise fell silent. Draco didn't realise, but his voice had changed...become harder.

Draco sighed in relief inwardly and continued walking to the Slytherin common room. He needed to make sure he had the cooperation of a few people before he started to plan everything.

"What if they don't want to hit you Draco?" Blaise asked suddenly.

Draco chuckled slightly, "Of course they will, Blaise. Crabbe and Goyle will be grateful for the practice."

Blaise didn't find the situation funny apparently.

"Don't be stupid, Draco. I'm serious. What if they agree with me and decide that this is an utterly idiotic plan and it will achieve nothing but a broken nose for you?" he inquired, "Will you find a different plan?"

Draco was puzzled, "Why the hell would they refuse to hit me?" _What was Blaise going on about?_

"Maybe you hadn't noticed, but the Slytherins are looking up to you Draco. They respect you more now than before the war. Hell, I respect you more," Blaise admitted, "You...well sorry to make you sound like a Gryffindor...but you've become almost noble with this whole business."

Blaise's face paled as he caught sight of Draco's murderous expression.

"Not that I'm calling you a Gryffindor! Of course you're not, I'm just stating that you're not the stereotypical Slytherin anymore...and well, it's good," he hastily corrected himself. He grinned nervously as Draco's face calmed again.

Well good. Draco wasn't some pushover Gryffindor that wasn't doing anything to help the Slytherins. He was being totally oblivious to the number of students from Slytherin being sent to the hospital wing this year. He knew what people were saying. What they were doing.

He wasn't going to sit by idly, twiddling his thumbs instead of helping other people. He had certainly done his part in the war, swapping sides and then fighting on the side of the Light, but did you see him sitting on his arse all day, unaware that every second more people were being hurt?

He certainly hoped not.

Draco sighed again, rolling his shoulders. He hadn't got much sleep last night for obvious reasons. His back was killing him and thanks to Blaise there was a definite pain behind his left eye. He just wanted to get to the doors to collect his books for the day and then carry on to DADA. He certainly didn't want this conversation to continue.

Blaise would either decide to help him or not. Whatever he chose, Draco would go ahead with his plan anyway.

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Draco strolled absentmindedly across the grass. It was slightly wet from a shower of rain earlier in the day and glistened slightly in the dim light. He moved a bit swifter than before, ignoring the moisture beginning to seep into his shoes. He could cast an impervious charm, but he reckoned he'd have worse things to worry about soon. As it was, it was killing him to be outside at this time of night.

Night, the time they usually decided to strike.

Draco ignored that thought. It wasn't as if he was leaving his corridor unpatrolled so he could go and fuck some airheaded witch, or whatever boys his age were meant to be doing. He was putting the first stage of his plan into motion.

After much lengthy discussion, Crabbe, Goyle, Millie and even Blaise had given in. The rest of Slytherin house hadn't been so readily persuaded and Draco was beginning to see what Blaise had meant earlier about the house respecting him more. Last year they had respected him for his political power with the Dark Lord, now they respected him because he protected them.

Or atleast he was trying to.

They had argued with him collectively until he had told them in no uncertain terms that he was going to do this anyway, with or without their so called approval. This was for their good and Draco wasn't about to take their arguments in too much consideration. He positive Crabbe, Millie and Goyle wouldn't hurt him too much anyway. Not if they valued their own faces in the positions they were anyway.

He stretched his arms above his head slightly and popped his neck. He needed to survey the area first, check that the information Greengrass had given him was reliable. She was after all one of the people who had been objected quite strongly to his ingenious plan and had given her information grudgingly.

He rounded the corner of the castle and stopped slightly. Yes, there was Potter. He was flying as effortlessly as ever around the Quidditch pitch, his figure a blur because of the speeds he was travelling. Draco recognised him however; nobody else he knew could fly that beautifully.

Not that he'd ever admit that openly to Potter. Merlin no, Severus Snape would have had to drag the information out of him first, and that would be extremely difficult considering he had died in the previous year, fortunately for the tormentors.

Draco's eyes tracked Potter's dim silhouette against the night sky, watching the intricate loops he performed, the daring twists and the steep dives. He almost gasped at the closeness of one before relaxing again. No matter how close Potter seemed to be to the ground, he never crashed or faltered. Draco almost felt jealous as he watched Potter's carefree activities. It must be nice.

He stood there silently until he could hardly see Potter anymore; his body almost lost among the darkness. Then, as Potter pulled out of a steep dive and began to dismount, he turned around and headed back indoors to find Crabbe, Goyle and Millie. Their part in his demonstration would be coming soon.

He headed towards the north courtyard. He knew Potter would come through this way. It was after all, the quickest way to Gryffindor's common room. Or atleast to where Draco was quite certain it was. He had never actual seen the inside, a fact not surprising considering his past behaviour towards them.

As he passed under the first arch he quickly spotted three large figures hiding in the shadows by the door into the castle. They approached reluctantly as Draco approached, their faces hidden beneath masks rather similar to the ones Draco had seen last night.

"Come on," Draco urged as soon as he was close enough to whisper, "Potter will be here soon and we need to time this right. Remember, if you're too late he'll catch you and then our entire plan-" he quickly corrected himself as one of the masked figures poked him hard in the chest, "fine, _my_ plan will be ruined." He stared them down, his hands on his hips.

They didn't move.

"We're not having this conversation again. It wasn't that much of a mentally challenging request! Just bloody hit me already!" he hissed spitefully. He needed to be spiteful because maybe then they wouldn't keep contemplating how wrong they thought it was and would actually hit him before Potter came around the corner and saw Draco talking to his supposed "attackers".

Millie was the first one to strike, atleast Draco guessed it was Millie. Her fist smashed into his nose immediately sending shooting pains through his face as blood gushed down his chin and onto his spotless white shirt. He gasped a little at the impact but harshly bit his lip. Goyle was the next to take up the gauntlet and sunk his fist into Draco's stomach.

Draco had been expected it but nevertheless he doubled over, falling to his knees slightly. He braced himself on one of his hands, panting as he tried to breathe steadily again. He had just managed when a foot slammed into one of his ribs. Almost distantly Draco heard the harsh crack but his mind was focussed on a loud voice that echoed around the dark courtyard.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Draco let himself slide down onto the cold stone, partly because he knew it would make him look even more pathetic but also because the burning pain in his side was making it hard for him breathe sitting up. Crabbe, Goyle and Millie were still hovering next to him, but Draco quickly indicated with his eyes that they should go. He didn't know how close Potter was as he couldn't quite turn his head around to look at him yet, but he imagined they were cutting it rather close time wise.

They disappeared from Draco's sight as they immediately disillusioned themselves as instructed. A curse echoed from behind Draco, closer than the voice before had been and hands quickly began to turn Draco onto his back. He sucked in his breath slightly as the pain intensified but quickly put it aside.

He needed to steel himself to the next part of his plan.

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I know, I know. Update next day my arse. But still, I'm very sorry. I had a hell of a lot of work to do this week.

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter and thank you to all of the people that told me when the film was coming out. You guys were a great help!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: If I'm J.K Rowling, why the hell am I writing on a **_**fan**_**fiction site?**

**Hello my faithful readers...or atleast I hope I have faithful readers. Anyway, I thought it was about time I updated this story, so here you are.**

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As Potter turned Draco over, he let his eyelids flutter closed over his eyes in a way he knew made his face look attractive, and almost feminine according to his mother. He could hear Potter cursing softly under his breath as he shook Draco's shoulders gently and called out his name. Even though this irritating motion sent shards of pains shooting across Draco's chest, he kept silent except for a soft breath he exhaled from his lips.

Luckily Potter hadn't decided to drop Draco and run after Goyle, Crabbe and Millicent, though as they were disillusioned he wasn't too sure how Potter would be able to do this. If he had however found them, Draco's plan would have been utterly ruined and instead of creating sympathy for the Slytherins, Potter would be completely convinced that the lot of them were utter lunatics that asked fellow housemates to beat them up in order to get Harry Potter's attention.

Oh Merlin it sounded sad when you put it like that.

Draco cursed himself inwardly as he gave an almost imperceptible disgusted shudder, which of course Potter being Potter would notice. He stopped shaking Draco lightly and instead stilled suddenly, his arms wrapped tightly around Draco's immobile body.

"Malfoy?" Potter said sharply.

Fuck it.

Draco gave up and let out a pained moan, which because of all the shaking Potter had done earlier, wasn't even faked, and slowly let his eyelids slide open softly. More of Potter's face was revealed as Draco let his eyes open and he quickly blinked to clear the somewhat fuzzy picture. He was dressed in casual clothes, his hair still ruffled from flying and upon further inspection; a Firebolt lay innocently beside him.

"Potter?!" he let himself croak out, his whistling chest adding to the picture of despair Draco made. He wondered vaguely if he should be worried that his lungs appeared to have been transformed into musical instruments because of the kick Crabbe landed on his ribs.

Potter attempted to paste a comforting smile on his face...and failed miserably. Draco half wanted to snort at his efforts, but decided it would probably look extremely odd for a victim to be snorting in amusement at their rescuer. Instead, Draco opted for frowning back at Potter and pushed himself away from Potter's embrace. He stopped abruptly when his chest felt like it might break into small pieces and his lungs burned unpleasantly. His breath hitched and he clasped a hand to his chest. Merlin, Crabbe had kicked him harder than Draco had originally thought.

"Whoa Malfoy, just...don't move okay?" Potter murmured, his arms loosening around Draco and instead clasping his elbows. "I need you to get to Madam Pomfrey, alright?" he continued.

A spasm of worry went up Draco's spine. Oh no, that was _not_ the plan at all. If Draco went to Madam Pomfrey's then she'd ask how he got in such a badly beat up state...and Draco would have to make up some lame excuse about falling down stairs...oh God, unless Potter told Madam Pomfrey that he had seen some students beat up Draco and then she'd surely notify Slughorn or McGonagall and then it would get around the whole school that Draco Malfoy had been beaten up by a group of people.

And of course the bullies doing all of the actual beating up would find out and obviously realise something was up considering they hadn't come near Draco in order to beat him up anyway...and Merlin it would just be a huge, great, utter disaster.

Potter unexpectedly banged Draco hard on the back, causing him to gasp out loudly at the pain now shooting through his entire body. "F...fuck Potter, was that really b...bloody n...necessary?!" Draco choked out, his chest burning awfully now. His chest felt like a bloody giant was sitting on it, compressing the air Draco should have been getting into nothing.

Potter shrugged, worriedly biting his lip. "Sorry, but you seemed like you were choking or something. Your breathing was all short and panicky...and you were either choking or having a panic attack." Draco blanched slightly. "Ridiculous Potter, of course I wasn't having a panic attack. What sort of a useless assumption is that?" He pushed himself away harshly from Potter, ignoring the constant pain in his chest now and stood up.

Oh Merlin that was a bad idea.

Draco doubled over as a spot in the middle of his forehead burst into pain; probably due to his possible broken nose, and his a burst of pain exploded in his abdomen. Potter was immediately there, rubbing oddly comforting patterns on Draco's back, and waiting patiently for Draco to get his breath back. Even though Draco knew he didn't really get beaten up by some idiotic bullies and that he was doing this for the good of Slytherin...he couldn't help a flush or embarrassment consuming his face.

Fortunately Potter seemed to have learnt a bit more tact and skilfully didn't mention it, even though it would have been painfully obvious against Draco's pale skin.

He breathed shallowly until it felt like his insides weren't going to implode and the straightened up slowly. When he stood up straight again, Draco turned away from Potter without a word and strode quickly into the castle and towards the Slytherin Common Room.

As he walked, Draco became slightly worried as there was no movement from Potter. Draco had been counting on Potter's damned curiosity and desire to fix things. Surely Potter wouldn't ignore this perfect chance to help an injured fellow student...would he?

"Malfoy? Where are you going now?!"

Oh so predictable.

Draco let a small smirk flit across his face before he started to exaggerate his limp a little more; purely out of his choice of course, not because one side of his stomach hurt a hell of a lot more than the other. Draco slowed slightly as Potter came skidding up to his side, his Firebolt held securely in one hand, and wrapped the other hand around his arm, his finger pressing lightly into Draco's arm. Draco let a weary expression ghost onto his face as he turned to face Potter.

"What do you want Scarhead?" he asked scathingly. Now, now, Draco, he reminded himself lightly, he had to act normal but not offending enough to make Potter run off in a huff with his huge Gryffindor ego bruised.

There would be enough time for that later on.

"What the hell, Malfoy?! You just got seriously beaten up! The hospital wing is in the opposite direction," Potter said heatedly, pointing back down the corridor. His infuriatingly green eyes glared into Draco's. Unconcerned, or so Draco told himself, he rolled his eyes and wrenched his arm away from Potter. He needed Potter to ask him who beat him up and then he could go to bed and rest his poor aching bones. This was the initial meeting of course, and Draco needed it to be short and sweet so he wouldn't catch himself out or reveal more to Potter than he should have.

Draco began walking again and Potter hurried to catch up. "Seriously Malfoy, it looks like you've got a broken nose...and probably a fracture rib while you're at it. You might even have internal damage!" Potter ranted loudly. His dark hair was being shook about by the rather vigorous head shaking Potter was doing in his obvious disapproval of Draco's actions.

Draco shushed him quickly. If someone, a teacher specifically, found Draco in this state it would make things immeasurably more difficult for him...and he'd never get Potter's support if he thought that a teacher was helping Draco instead. No, Potter needed to be quiet.

"Shut the hell up Potter. It's not as if we Slytherin's don't have experience with healing these days," Draco hissed. There, he managed to stun Potter into silence whilst also hinting that other Slytherin's than him were being beaten up every day. He congratulated himself on a job well done...now, if only Potter would take the bait and ask who had been beating Draco up. Then Draco would be able to-

"Healing? Why would you need to do that? Unless..." Potter's eyes became incredibly focussed and Draco inwardly smiled broadly. Apparently Harry Potter wasn't as slow as Draco had thought, after all he had picked up on Draco's hint faster than Draco expected. "Who were those boys before, the ones beating you up?!" Potter clarified unnecessarily. Did he think that people beating up Draco was a regular occurrence...not that Draco discouraged that idea.

Draco feigned shaking his head. Millicent would kill Potter if she heard him mistake her for a boy, though it was quite an easy mistake for anyone to make. Draco pasted a trouble expression on his face, which came easier than expected as Draco let himself think of Lisa's body lying there on the bottom of the stairs. Draco was doing this for them, so he might as well do a bloody good job of this.

"Just let it go Potter. It's none of your business," Draco ordered Potter, knowing that Potter would rather eat a Blast-Ended Skrewt than let _this _go. Or even let a Blast-Ended Skrewt eat him, whatever image floats your boat.

Potter reached put another arm and attempted to grab Draco's arm again, but he skilfully dodged the questioning appendage. He had spent more time than he had originally planned talking to Potter. He needed to get back to the Slytherin Dorms and see if Blaise could heal him. He had grudgingly agreed earlier.

"Why are you protecting them Malfoy? Do you know them or something?" Potter asked and Draco inwardly winced. That was a little too close to the mark. He hadn't meant to give Potter that impression.

"Just...forget you were even here Potter. I don't need your help," Draco said heatedly, "Besides, it's not like I'm the only one this is happening to. Try opening your eyes."

And with that hopefully befuddling statement, he left Potter standing still in the middle of the corridor and entered the Slytherin Common Room.

* * *

The entrance to the Common Room slid shut behind Draco and almost instantly around a hundred eyes immediately fixed themselves onto Draco. Gasps from students sitting on the dark green furniture filled the room as the Slytherin's took in Draco's battered appearance. He ignored them in favour of limping towards the steps to the dorms, wincing as he stepped up each one. He needed to find Blaise, find out if any Slytherins were beaten up tonight and also have _very_ stern words with his three fake tormentors.

He limped into his dorm room and shut the door resolutely on a few students that were peering nosily from their rooms, trying to find out what all the commotion was about. He closed his eyes lightly in pain before opening them to gaze and Blaise sitting on his bed.

Blaise openly gaped at Draco's bloody face before snapping his mouth closed quickly. "Christ Draco, you said you'd have a bruised nose at most! That looks bloody broken to me! Do you really think that I'm going to heal you after you-"

Draco cut him off wearily. "Just shut up, Blaise. I need you to heal my nose." He purposefully didn't mention his possibly cracked ribs or his extremely painful stomach. He knew Blaise would just fuss and then curse at him some more. "Was anyone else attacked tonight?" He asked and sat down gingerly on the end of the bed's green covers, reluctant to jolt his ribs.

Blaise, who had been glaring at Draco, immediately cast his eyes downwards before reaching for his wand on the bedside table. Draco's heart dropped into his stomach as Blaise deliberately didn't meet his eyes. He reached for Draco's chin and held it steady as he levelled his wand at Draco's bloodied nose.

As several seconds went by Draco opened his mouth impatiently to say something sharp when Blaise interrupted him. "Alex Greengrass. Daphne's brother was beat up pretty close to the Slytherin Common Room. They're obviously getting bolder, and frankly Draco that worries me. If they're confident enough to start bullying people that close to the Dungeons, who knows what they might try and do next."

Draco gritted his teeth. His nose gave a twinge of pain as Blaise began resetting it. "Alex Greengrass...he's a first year right?" Another thought occurred to Draco. "How did the elder Greengrass take it? Was she furious?" Draco certainly wouldn't have been feeling too merciful if his younger sibling had just been beaten up by some lowly students.

Blaise set his mouth. "No, she was out for blood until me and Bulstrode managed to calm her down. We told her you had a plan and that everybody was instructed not to do anything until you had worked everything out. But then you come in looking like that...Christ, who knows what they're all going to think now." He shook his head at Draco. "Why the hell did they give you a broken nose?! I thought they were told just to hit you lightly?"

Draco smirked. "They were...they just got a little carried away. Don't worry, I'm planning on having words with them later about their technique; it lacks proper respect for the condition of my bones." He grimaced at Blaise as his nose clicked into place and Blaise began cleaning the dried blood off his nose.

"Bones? Plural?" Blaise sighed and rolled his eyes, "Where else are you injured?"

Draco gave him a wry smile before standing up slowly. He took off his robes and pulled open his shirt, and was shocked as a bright purple bruise was revealed across the left side of his abdomen.

Blaise growled slightly and bent down to inspect it. "Draco, this was bloody close to your diaphragm. If those idiots had hit any harder they could have damaged it." He gently laid a hand across the bruise and pressed lightly. Draco immediately gasped when his airway felt like it had just closed. Blaise released the pressure instantly and gazed worriedly at Draco who was currently clutching his side in pain.

"It's fractured, I think," he diagnosed half exasperated, half concerned. "I can't heal that for you without probably rearranging some important organs by accident. Maybe you should go to Madam Pom-"

"No." Draco's voice was hard. "I don't think that's a good idea. I don't want to worry the others more than necessary; I mean who knows what Daphne will do if nobody is there to restrain her." He stepped away from Blaise and began changing into his pyjamas slowly.

"Besides, tonight worked. I've definitely got Potter intrigued now."

**Alrighty, that would be the third chapter folks. Anybody feel like reviewing?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: As much as I love Harry Potter, he does not belong to me.**

**She has updated... Okay, wipe those shocked expressions off your faces now. Enjoy the chapter folks!**

**Bit of a reminder for you as well:**

* * *

_Draco smirked. "They were...they just got a little carried away. Don't worry, I'm planning on having words with them later about their technique; it lacks proper respect for the condition of my bones." He grimaced at Blaise as his nose clicked into place and Blaise began cleaning the dried blood off his nose._

_"Bones? Plural?" Blaise sighed and rolled his eyes, "Where else are you injured?"_

_Draco gave him a wry smile before standing up slowly. He took off his robes and pulled open his shirt, and was shocked as a bright purple bruise was revealed across the left side of his abdomen._

_Blaise growled slightly and bent down to inspect it. "Draco, this was bloody close to your diaphragm. If those idiots had hit any harder they could have damaged it." He gently laid a hand across the bruise and pressed lightly. Draco immediately gasped when his airway felt like it had just closed. Blaise released the pressure instantly and gazed worriedly at Draco who was currently clutching his side in pain._

_"It's fractured, I think," he diagnosed half exasperated, half concerned. "I can't heal that for you without probably rearranging some important organs by accident. Maybe you should go to Madam Pom-"_

_"No." Draco's voice was hard. "I don't think that's a good idea. I don't want to worry the others more than necessary; I mean who knows what Daphne will do if nobody is there to restrain her." He stepped away from Blaise and began changing into his pyjamas slowly._

_"Besides, tonight worked. I've definitely got Potter intrigued now."_

* * *

Classes were hell the next day. His ribs constantly hurt and Blaise kept shooting him angry glances whenever Draco stifled a grunt of pain. By lunchtime Draco was about ready to curse him...or maybe just some irritating Gryffindor that walked past. But what infuriated him the most was the complete and utter indifference Potter treated him with during the few times Draco saw him throughout the day, take after breakfast for example; Draco saw him outside the greenhouses and he didn't even acknowledge Draco, and instead kept his eyes glued firmly to the ground. Draco remembered standing there in bewilderment until a younger Slytherin had come up to him and asked if he was alright.

Draco was quite sure he had growled at them.

He wanted to put Phase Two of his brilliant – if painful plan – into motion tonight. He would definitely be having words with Crabbe, Goyle and Millicent first though. He hadn't seen them last night, which was oddly convenient for them and so inconvenient for Draco. It was probably best though, he as definitely in a worse mood last night than he was now.

Only marginally though.

* * *

"Malfoy!"

Draco half turned around at the shout, his ribs creaking ominously with the motion. He hoped to Merlin whoever wanted his attention would oblige him by walking around the desk first. His ribs were becoming increasingly sore due to the jostling motions Draco kept subjecting them to. Students turned around startled at the shout in the usual silence of the library, but as they noticed the voice's possessor they turned back around uninterested.

Draco heard footsteps hurrying towards him and he imperceptibly tensed. The shout itself didn't sound particularly menacing, which in fact narrowed down its owner to a handful of students.

The Slytherins called him Draco, not Malfoy usually. The Ravenclaws were too busy with their books to be speaking to him. The idea of the Hufflepuffs actually having the courage to call him was laughable, and the Gryffindors were sitting too high on their pedestal to lower themselves to _his_ standard.

Well, most of the Gryffindors.

"You called Potter", Malfoy replied dryly when the familiar mop of wild hair came into his view, his shoulders relaxing almost against his will. It was worrying how at ease he was becoming with Potter, the plan was not yet completed after all and Draco needed to be on his guard if it was going to work.

"Yes, I wanted to talk to you about last night," Potter blurted out, chewing his lip almost subconsciously. He looked nervous but determined at the same time.

Perfect.

Draco painted a frown onto his face, his expression he hoped becoming guarded. "I don't really have time for this now, Potter. I have a Defence Against the Dark Arts essay to write." He indicated to the sheet of paper with his elegant script on.

Well he thought it was elegant, it was certainly a good deal better than that awful scrawl Potter wrote.

Potter furrowed his brow – probably wondering if he himself had done that essay yet, the moron – before he relaxed. "Oh, I could always help you if you want Malfoy...I mean, whilst talking to you." Potter looked incredibly confused as if he couldn't fathom why he had just offered homework help to Draco of all people.

That made two of them. Draco didn't snort though, as was his first response. It wouldn't hurt to have Potter intrigue himself in the matter. In fact, it would probably help Draco's case if anything. He would have to play if carefully though, this whole conversation could ruin his plan if he let something slip to Potter that he shouldn't.

"Alright," Draco agreed, letting a small amount of reluctance seep through his voice. Potter didn't look perturbed though and pulled out a library chair next to Draco.

Draco pulled the books he'd been reading on Inferi towards him and began flicking through the pages. He father, Lucius, had discussed this topic with him already, back when he had been-

The familiar lump rose in Draco's throat but he ignored it, now definitely wasn't the time for self pity.

"So Potter, what do you know about Inferi then? I'm betting not a lot," Draco let the corner of his mouth turn upwards, his usual sneer curving his mouth. After all, how much more would Potter be able to glean from these useless textbooks than Draco already had? It wasn't as if Draco himself had ever seen one personally, and frankly he was grateful for that fact. He was a Slytherin after all, self preservation was a must.

It usual was anyway, with the exception of Draco's plan.

Oddly, Potter's eyes turned bitter as he looked at Draco. "You'd be surprised Malfoy." He was thrumming his fingertips lightly on the table top as he waited for Draco to continue writing his essay. Draco reluctantly complied, his interest piqued somewhat.

There was silence for a few minutes; Potter was obviously working up to the question he wanted to ask. Draco was only too happy to let him gather his courage. He listened as Potter's fingers sped up their riff on the wood, betraying his emotions. Draco's own hand was steadily scratching away with his quill on the parchment, adding a few comments here and there, filling the inches gradually.

"Malfoy..." Potter finally spoke, only to let his voice fade away again.

Draco let an irritated puff of air pass through his lips unbidden, hopefully Potter would mistake it as annoyance due to the interruption. He raised his eyebrow at Potter nonetheless, his voice dry. "Potter, spit it out. Your staring is becoming a nuisance." This did the trick and Potter blushed before averting his eyes.

"Malfoy, a Slytherin called Alex Greengrass was admitted into the hospital wing last night. He had similar injuries to you." Potter's eyes really were agonisingly green and Draco let surprise lighten his features unwillingly. How did Potter find out about Daphne's brother? Had been checking up on Draco?

"Your point, Potter?" Draco replied neutrally. Come on Potter, piece together the clues...

Potter looked a little irate at Draco's seemingly uncaring comment. "I wanted to know," he stressed, "If your...attacks were, well...related." He stopped suddenly as if fearing he had said too much. Draco flicked his eyes back to his parchment.

He let his fingers turn the quill over thoughtfully. "Would you care if they were?" he answered loftily.

Potter didn't even look as if he had to ponder this one; instead an outraged expression came over his face. "Of course I would, Malfoy! He's a first year for Merlin's sake! I want to stop these...bullies whoever, they are!"

Draco inwardly smirked. Apparently Potter had grasped the concept of what was happening to the Slytherin house rather quickly. He certainly did it faster than Draco had expected him to.

"Are you sure about that Potter?" Draco once again answered him cryptically, "You don't even know who these bullies are." Or why they're doing this to us, he added silently. Hopefully Potter would work that one out on his own; it definitely brought up too many bad memories between them.

Potter's fists suddenly clenched tightly on the tabletop; his fingers finally still.

"It shouldn't matter, nobody should have the right to terrorize an entire house," Potter spat out forcefully. Obviously his encounter with Alex Greengrass had shook Potter up more than he realised. He certainly had the innocence that Draco himself lacked.

Draco tilted his head thoughtfully. How far could he push Potter? "Really Potter? These bullies seem to almost _hate_ Slytherins, even those who were not at...the final battle." Draco forced those last words out of his mouth. They even tasted bitter now.

Potter eyes grew stormy, realising what Draco had been implying. "Gryffindor had nothing to do with this," he replied lowly, "If I had to hazard a guess I would say it's someone from your own house, looking for revenge." His green eyes flashed as they delivered the insult, and Draco automatically stood up, drawing himself up to his full height in protest.

"That's ridiculous Potter, my house is civilised unlike your rabble of housemates!" Draco snarled, his anger escaping him. Potter jumped up at his words, reluctant to be towered over by Draco.

"Civilised were they when they tortured people for Voldemort?!" Potter sneered, spitefully throwing out the Dark Lord's name as if he didn't have a care in the world. The taboo word floated between as Draco floundered to find something to say back to that horrible allegation.

"Fuck you, Potter!" Excellent Malfoy, way to raise yourself above the peasants, he reprimanded himself silently. Struggling to keep his calm, he gathered up his things and thrust them blindly into his bag. He threw it over his shoulder, ignoring the glare of pain up his side. "You weren't the only one to suffer in the war, Potter. If you got off your pedestal you might realise that." With those parting words, Malfoy stormed from the library, shouldering Potter heavily as he brushed past.

Agony immediately erupted in his ribs and he couldn't breathe properly. He made it to the corridor outside the library before he collapsed against the wall, biting his lip harshly. His breath sounded ragged in his own ears. He closed his eyes tightly as the pain faded to barely manageable levels and took a few experimental breaths. Opening his eyes he nearly choked in surprise.

Harry Potter was staring down at him with an unreadable expression.

"I told you to go to Madam Pomfrey," he said softly. He reached out a hand towards Draco, but Draco stepped away quickly. Embarrassment at being seen in such a venerable position rose in him and he automatically scowled at Potter.

"Don't flatter yourself Potter, I don't need your help and neither does Slytherin," he barked and without another word he strode towards the dungeons his side burning all the while.

* * *

Oh Merlin, what had he done? His entire plan rested on Potter becoming a defender of Slytherin, an example to the school, and what had Draco done? He'd gone and alienated him that's what.

He flung himself backwards onto his bed, wincing at the pain but accepting it as punishment. He had let done the entire house, what was the point of even trying anymore?

He barely looked up as Blaise strode into the room, only acknowledging him when Blaise poked him harshly in the leg.

"This is how we'll do it," Blaise announced in a voice that accepted no argument, "I will take Crabbe's place tonight. I will be the one to actually hit you, this way you might actually keep your bones in tact this time. The others will merely be there to look menacing, you understand?" He glared down at Draco, his dark eyes furious.

Draco gazed up at him blankly. "Blaise, I basically told Potter to fuck off." Well actually he had, but that was beside the point. "He's not going to care if I get beaten up again, he'd probably join in." He closed his eyes again weakly, only to be poked again a second later.

"Don't be ridiculous, Draco," Blaise snorted, "this is Potter. He didn't exactly like you the first time, but he still helped you didn't he?" He sat down heavily by Draco's feet and scowled. "Saving kittens and puppies are his thing."

Draco sat up outraged. "Are you comparing me to a _kitten_, Blaise?!"

Blaise stared blankly. "Yes I suppose I am." A corner of his mouth turned up.

"Now are we going to do this or not?"

Draco frowned, debated whether he had enough energy to argue the kitten point, and then nodded.

* * *

They'd picked a different spot this time; it would look too suspicious if Draco was beaten up in the exact same spot. Instead they set up a few corridors away from Gryffindor tower, that way Potter would be able to spot them as he walked back from the Quidditch pitch. They had checked whether the Gryffindor was there – what a surprise, the lazy prick had been – and then rushed to set this up.

Draco would have liked to say he was feeling confident about his plan, but frankly as Blaise, Goyle and Millie advanced on him a thread of apprehension shivered up his spine. His ribs still hurt from last night, and he was still unsure whether Potter would give a damn about his safety anyway.

For some odd reason that Draco really didn't want to investigate, he hoped Potter did care.

As footsteps suddenly echoed along the corridor towards them, Blaise drew out his wand. Draco's eyebrows immediately rose at this, they certainly hadn't mentioned magic being involved in this attack! He opened his mouth to protest but was caught by a silencing charm from Blaise.

"Trust me, Draco," Blaise mouthed and then raised his wand to Draco's chest.

The footsteps along the corridor sped up, their feet pounding against the cold stone floor.

Millie and Goyle raised the wands, but made no motion to open their mouths.

Draco stared at Blaise in disbelief as his mouth slowly formed words.

"Impedimenta!"

Draco felt like an anvil had just been thrown at his chest and he flew backwards to hit the tapestry on the wall behind him. His head collided with a sickening thud and he crumpled down the wall, unable to support his weight. Black dots danced in front of his eyes as he struggled to raise his head from his chest.

Alarmingly he began to slide sideward, his hands not cooperating with his body. He could just imagine the embarrassment of planting face first into the ground when strong – but probably weedy – arms wrapped themselves around his body.

Draco raised his head and tried to focus on Potter's face, uncomfortably aware of a warm liquid trickling down the side of his neck from a probable head wound. The room seemed awfully silent until Potter's voice suddenly filled his hearing.

"Malfoy?! Look at me! Can you hear what I'm saying?!" Panic was evident in the Gryffindor's voice and though Draco would deny it later, something inside him warmed at the tone.

Draco groaned loudly, covering his ears only to pull them away dotted in blood. Bleeding from the ears is never a good sign in Draco's book. "Of course I can bloody hear you Potter, I doubt there's a person in this castle that can't." Or atleast he tried to say. The words were definitely formed by his mouth, but his ears didn't hear anything.

Oh Merlin, was he deaf?

No wait, if he was he wouldn't have been able to hear Potter. He glanced up at the aforementioned Gryffindor who was currently pulling out his own wand. Why had the stupid lout not taken it out when he saw Draco being attacked? Was he really that arrogant to think he could take on all three of them wandless?

Who was Draco kidding, this was Potter.

As Potter levelled the wand at Draco, he couldn't help flinching violently. Being cursed twice in one night didn't really appeal to Draco even if he did deserve it this time.

However, Potter merely muttered, "Finite Incantatem."

Realisation dawned on Draco and he coughed softly. "I said 'Yes Potter, I can hear you.'" Draco replied in reference to Potter's earlier question.

Not strictly true, but close enough.

Draco blinked rapidly to clear the blurriness of his vision. It helped slightly but it made his head hurt something awful.

Potter frowned next to him and scowled.

"Good because after I take you to the hospital wing, we need to talk."

* * *

**That's all for now...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I would like to own Harry Potter...but unfortunately I do not have the money to buy him. Shame really.**

**I felt so bad for leaving you without an update for about four months that I hurried to my laptop and typed this up for you. You know how to show your appreciation...**

**

* * *

**

Madam Pomfrey really was quite a terrifying woman, Draco mused.

She had looked somewhat like a vengeful...well not quite an angel, when Potter had thrust open the doors and helped him limp towards a hospital bed. At Madam Pomfrey's barking Potter of course, had opened his enormous mouth and promptly informed Madam Pomfrey that Draco had been attacked by three unknown students. Pomfrey had immediately whipped herself into quite the frenzy and had summoned Slughorn before Draco could utter a single syllable.

Overall it had put Draco into a significantly awkward situation.

In the midst of Pomfrey's healing spells, Slughorn had grilled Draco about the details of his 'attack'. Naturally Draco couldn't reveal his 'attackers' or even much of the details and instead he'd been forced to become a little creative with his answers. He had not mentioned any of the attacks on Slytherin – not that Slughorn knew about those anyway. Slytherin's head of house was remarkably ignorant about the events in his own house recently though possibly because no one had thought it necessary to inform him.

There was after all, little he could do to stop these attacks. If McGonagall could do nothing to stop them, it was extremely doubtful that a bumbling oaf like Slughorn could make these students change their minds.

One look at Madam Pomfrey could have possibly changed their minds.

She had ordered, after pouring numerous foul potions down his throat, Draco to remain in the hospital wing for the night. Potter had immediately given him a sympathetic glance, one completely unappreciated by Draco. After all Potter had sent him here in the first place.

He had reluctantly climbed into bed, albeit a little unsteadily, and refused to look at Potter again. If the prat had just done as Draco had planned and merely escorted him back to the Slytherin Common Room, he wouldn't have had to spend a whole horrifying night being coddled by Hogwart's mediwitch.

Well, most of a night anyway. Potter had departed soon after delivering Draco, a hard look in his eyes that thrilled Draco somewhat. Without any further distractions, he had fallen asleep as soon as his injured head had touched the clean pillows.

Madam Pomfrey may be a monstrous woman when riled but her healing powers left Draco astounded every time. He had awoken the next morning as fresh as a daisy, his head in one piece again. She had reluctantly let him leave, though still determined to find out who had attacked Draco in the first place.

Draco has reassured her no other details had entered his mind during his sleep and scarpered as quickly as his legs would carry him.

He needed to have a little talk with Blaise before lessons.

* * *

Draco managed to corner him in the dormitories.

"What the hell did you think you were playing at?" he roughly hissed at Blaise, who looked a little too unconcerned for Draco's liking. He drew his wand slowly to accentuate his point and felt a grim satisfaction when Blaise's smirk faltered.

"Now, let's not be hasty Draco," Blaise said hurriedly, "We needed to change the attack slightly, make it seem more serious. How else could we have done that without magic and not seriously hurt you?" He raised his hands beseechingly towards Draco.

Draco pondered this for a moment.

"That's all very well and good Blaise, but Potter didn't seem more bothered than usual about the attack," Draco pronounced slowly, "He just dropped me off at the hospital wing without another word." Draco frowned slightly bitterly at this. Potter had declared he needed to talk to Draco, but apparently only when it was convenient for him. Stupid git.

Blaise raised his eyebrows in triumphant. "That's where you're wrong Draco. Potter has been dragging his sidekicks around all morning sniffing around for clues, quite amusing actually." He relaxed his arms and leaned against the door, apparently convinced the danger was over.

Draco contemplated raising his wand again, but decided against it.

If Potter had been sniffing around with Granger – that girl was ridiculously smart – he might actually find something useful out about these mysterious attackers. The real ones this time. Maybe Draco would finally be able to get his revenge on whoever had been assaulting Slytherins...

"The only problem is," Blaise interrupted Draco's daydream, "everyone now knows that you were attacked last night. Which means that-"

"The attackers probably know as well," Draco finished for him. He scoffed at Blaise's concerned face. "Oh don't be absurd Blaise, as if those cowards would actually try and attack a seventh year. They prefer easier targets."

Blaise scowled at Draco's nonchalance before rolling his eyes. "Alright, if your sure." He sighed and picked his books from his bed. "But if something happens, don't say I didn't warn you." He strode from the room quickly, not glancing back at Draco. He was probably annoyed by Draco's indifference.

Draco turned around, thinking Blaise had left when his voice floated from the doorway.

"Besides, Pomfrey managed to fix your rib as well didn't she?" he called mockingly.

Draco's mouth fell open at Blaise's underhanded tactics, though he shouldn't really have been surprised – Blaise was a Slytherin after all. He snorted softly before picking up his books from his trunks.

A small piece if parchment fluttered to the floor from inside one of the books.

Draco read it quickly, his eyes widening minutely before hardening. He crumpled it quickly in his fist and set it alight with a vicious _incendio_. He followed Blaise without another word.

'_Malfoy,' _the note had read, '_we know about your plan. We're coming for you next...'_

* * *

Without quite knowing what he was doing, Draco strode up to Potter the next morning. He was sitting in the library with an essay of his own this time. He looked so absorbed in what he was writing that Draco hadn't been able to resist striding up to him and throwing himself into the seat opposite him.

Purely to annoy Potter of course, not because Potter looked irresistible when he chewed his quill end, his face set in concentration. His mesmerising eyes boring into his parchment intensely...

Dear Merlin where had that come from?

Draco shook himself mentally before smirking at Potter, who had only acknowledged him with a brief nod in his direction – the prat – and then carried on writing whatever he was scribbling away at.

Draco opened his mouth to deliver a cheerful insult but Potter's atrocious writing was distracting him. "Merlin Potter, didn't they ever teach you to write legibly at school? I don't know how any of the professors can read anything you hand in, it looks like it was written in a language unknown to wizards!" He pursed his lips as Potter's hand didn't desist its awful scrawling.

Potter if anything, seemed to focus more intently on his writing, ignoring Draco's insult.

Now Draco couldn't tolerate that.

With a quick wand motion he summoned Potter's quill from his fingers and threw it swiftly over his own shoulder. "You know it's awfully bad manners to ignore someone who is speaking to you, Potter," Draco sniffed haughtily. He folded his arms over his chest and glared at Potter's scruffy head. Had he never heard of a comb?

Potter blinked slightly in surprise at his now empty hand, before rolling his eyes tiredly. He stared at Draco unblinking, until Draco shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. Oddly he didn't say anything though, merely tilted his head as if Draco was an enigma that had been puzzling him. Potter's green eyes looked alarming large behind those hideous looking spectacles he insisted upon wearing, and Draco could feel his shoulders tensing up as the silence between them drew on. Did Potter expect him to fetch his quill for him?

"What Potter?!" he enquired loudly, perhaps a little loud for the students studying around them. They jerked startled and scowled at Draco.

A quick glare from Draco quickly corrected their impolite behaviour though as they reconsidered their actions and turned back around swiftly.

Potter vaguely grinned at him, unruffled. "How's your head?" he asked suddenly, the question throwing Draco who had been busying glaring at him.

"Oh, it's fine now," Draco answered shocked into honesty. Potter really cared how Draco was feeling? Well, weirder things had happened.

"Good."

Draco nodded vaguely before racking his brain for something to say. Why had he come over in the first place? "You said last night you wanted to speak to me?" he blurted out unthinkingly. Surely if Potter had wanted to speak to him he would have done it earlier.

"So I did," Potter replied neutrally. "Tell me Malfoy, do you care for your house?" he asked unexpectedly.

Draco blinked stupidly, what sort of a question was that?

"Of course, I do Potter," he answered startled. They were all he had left now that –

"Don't you care for yours?" Draco fired back. Two could play at whatever muddling game Potter was trying to play with him.

Potter nodded calmly, not at all riled as Draco had hoped he would be.

"Do you still hate me?" he said, surprising Draco again. What was with Potter and these questions?

He thought about his answer before he replied. "No," Draco said simply. He didn't want to get into this with Potter now. He may have fought with Potter in the last battle, but this discussion was too deep for them to get into.

Potter's expression didn't change. He still looked bemused and thoughtful.

The silence stretched between them again, Potter obviously waiting for Draco to elaborate on his answer. He was going to be disappointed then.

"If inane questions were all you wanted to ask, Potter, I'll be going now," Draco drawled with all the casualness he could muster. He pushed himself smoothly out of his seat, walking towards the library exit. Potter didn't say a word as Draco moved away.

Draco bent down quickly before straightening and throwing Potter's quill back at him. "Here Potter," he said unnecessarily, Potter's hand already plucking the projectile out of thin air as if it were stationary.

"Thanks Malfoy."

Draco nodded curtly before marching out of the library.

* * *

Draco's head seemed muffled. What on earth had Potter being going on about? He wanted to know if Draco cared for his house. If Draco still hated him? The conversation they just had was odd even for Potter's standards. He had seemed angry last night, but today Potter looked puzzled.

It made Draco extremely edgy.

The only conclusion Draco could think of was that Potter knew about Draco's plan, but even that was farfetched. He had left absolutely no traces that could lead Millie, Goyle of Blaise back to the attack. Nobody but the Slytherins knew about his plan and they certainly wouldn't have told Potter anything, not if they knew what was good for them.

No, Draco was being ridiculous. Potter didn't know anything, Draco scoffed, it wasn't as if he was psychic or something ludicrous like that.

He was shocked out of his thoughts when a body collided harshly with his, knocking his bag off his shoulder. Draco's belongings careened to the floor and he growled as the clumsy oaf was swept away by the crowd.

Muttering darkly under his breath, Draco quickly scooped his belongings off the floor and stuffed them back in his bag. The stupid prat, whoever they were, was bloody lucky none of Draco's ink bottles had smashed. He would have found himself cursed before he could say "quidditch" if they had. Draco's bag was expensive and ink stains would be murder to try and get out.

As he threw the last of his belongings in his bag, his eye caught something that made his blood chill slightly. A second piece of parchment, ripped as if out of a book, was lying innocently on the floor.

'_Stay away from Potter if you know what's good for you.'_

Draco flew to his feet, his eyes scanning the sea of students frantically, trying to gauge who had knocked into him.

There wasn't a single face looking at him though.

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**I know, evil ending and what not... I won't add another comment, I would probably give away the story.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter…J.K Rowling…etc.**

**Oh my lordy lord, I haven't updated for quite a bit. Terrible, I know, but I will try to finish this story for you all. Enjoy!**

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Draco hurried back to his common room as fast as he could without seeming out of sorts. Whoever dropped the note could have seen him and misinterpreted his speed as fear.

And it wasn't fear, oh no, Draco was furious.

Who did they think they were?! Attacking innocent young Slytherins was one thing, but did they really think they could take Draco Malfoy down? No way, he would curse their arse to France and back again.

Okay, there was no point in getting riled up; it would not help him in figuring out who was behind these attacks. He mentally calmed himself upon reaching the Common room door. It wouldn't do to have the Slytherins see him in such a state. He needed to think about this.

He schooled his expression and swept into the common room and up to his dormitory. He distantly heard Pansy call him but ignored her. He didn't have time to put up with her nonsense at the moment, this was important.

The first note had been tucked into his DADA textbook. NEWT Level textbook. That had to mean that atleast one of the attackers was in his Defence against the Dark Arts class! He shut the door to the room quickly and began pacing. How many people were in his class? Eleven? Twelve? More? Potter and his usual groupies, a few Hufflepuffs, even fewer Slytherins and the rest Ravenclaws.

No...that wouldn't work. He had used that textbook for the exact same essay Potter had been doing earlier. The note could have easily have been slipped in yesterday when he was working in the library. Anybody could have walked past when he was distracted.

The culprit who gave Draco the note today was even harder to track down. He hadn't seen anyone looking guilty or even suspicious in the corridor outside the library. Unless, as before, the note hadn't been dropped in the corridor...what if it had been put in Draco's bag in the library again, whilst he was talking to Potter. It wasn't impossible, improbable yes, but still possible.

He tapped his lip angrily. How could have he been so utterly blind and not noticed people dropping objects into his own bag?!

He sighed again. The entire thing was a mystery, just an infuriating mystery. All the while these attackers were roaming the corridors and Draco wasn't doing anything to stop them. He should have been out patrolling the night Daphne's brother was attacked. This was all just so messed up.

Draco sank down onto his own bed and covered his face wearily.

There wasn't a single person that could have had the opportunity to put both of the notes in Draco's bag. He didn't remember seeing one person twice, and not in such close contact either. Not a single...

Oh Merlin. Potter.

The thought hit Draco with the force of a freight train.

Potter...who was in Draco's DADA class and could have easily slipped the first note in his bag.

Potter...who was in the library with Draco just seconds before he found the second note.

No, that was ridiculous! This was Potter! An insufferable Do-Good Gryffindor for Christ's sake! He killed the Dark Lord...actually maybe that wasn't such a good example to back up Draco's denial. Harry Potter would of course have a serious grudge against the Dark Lord's supporters, and certainly would want them punished.

Draco shook his head vehemently. The day Harry Potter went around and started attacking first year girls was the day Draco opted to wear bright spotted trousers to class.

It just wasn't going to happen.

Satisfied with his own reassurance, Draco started pacing again. He was going to figure this out if it killed him. Well, maybe not killed. He wasn't really into the whole martyr thing. Christ, he wasn't Potter.

Draco's thoughts were interrupted as Blaise came sprinting into the room, his face distraught. Any thoughts of notes flew from his mind as Draco immediately pelted from the room, Blaise following him. "Who was it?" he barked.

Blaise's voice sounded thick with distress. "Nott's brother. Draco...they've taken him to Pomfrey." His footsteps slammed hard into the floor next to Draco's. Something in his voice made Draco turn and glance at him.

"What is it?" he asked sharply. He could tell he had made the right assumption when Blaise immediately swallowed painfully.

"He was..." Blaise started to say but broke off, "You're not going to like this Draco." He bit his lip anxiously.

Draco growled lowly.

"I don't care, just bloody tell me!"

Blaise sighed. "They found him in one of the potion's cupboards...but well, they think he's been there since last night. The amount of blood surrounding him..." Blaise trailed off.

God damn it! He should have been patrolling last night. It was the same with Daphne's brother. Whatever he tried to do to stop it, they just kept coming. Draco cursed himself harshly, still sprinting towards the hospital wing.

The plan with Potter was over.

The Slytherins needed someone to protect them and Draco had to step up.

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Nott let out a gentle snore as he stirred in his chair. Madam Pomfrey hadn't the heart to tell him to leave whilst his own brother was lying in one of the hospital beds. Draco didn't think that Theo would have moved anyway, he loved his younger brother too much. He sighed lightly in his sleep and subconsciously gripped his brother's hand tighter, afraid even when sleeping that something would hurt him.

Draco sighed wearily and leaned into the stone wall. He should have been there.

It was his _fault._

He could warn them about the dangers of walking all alone until his was positively purple in the face, but the fact was they needed protection. These attackers were becoming bolder, and apparently more violent.

James Nott's face was hideous. Mottled in several different colours from bruises and it supported a long burn that ran from his temple to his chin. Draco didn't even want to think about how the attackers had caused that injury. Several other burns dotted his frail body, almost identically to the one on James's face. It made Draco sick to think about them.

Madam Pomfrey had covered the burns in a thick orange paste and administered several potions. She hadn't dared heal anything apart from a long gash in James's leg until the burns had healed. She didn't want to cause him any unnecessary pain.

Draco had inwardly snorted at that one. The whole ordeal was just unnecessary pain for James. It should _not_ have happened. And if Draco had anything to say about it, it was going to _stop._

He would have to start the patrol in a few minutes. The students needed to be protected and if they were stupid enough to try and mess with Draco, well...they would get what they deserved.

Readying himself to push away from the wall, Draco almost jumped when the door to the hospital wing swung open. He rolled his eyes when the intruder stepped through the door.

Potter. Of course it would be.

He made his way quickly between the beds until he stood next Draco, his green eyes glowing in the semi-darkness. Draco turned to make a witty comment but stopped when he saw Potter's face. He looked...furious. There really wasn't another word to describe it. His knuckles were stark white from clenching his fists and his back was ramrod straight. But his face...This, _this_ was why Draco had always thought Potter would be excellent in battle.

His eyes were narrowed, deadly behind those ugly frames. His mouth was what really drew Draco in. Normally curved in a gentle smile, it was a shock to see his lips almost disappear into the tight line Potter had pressed them into. He looked ready to pounce, but even though he was looking at James, Draco knew that Potter had got his feathers all ruffled because of the attackers.

"Here to gloat, Potter?" Draco murmured quietly, but regretted his words almost as soon as they left his mouth. He wasn't sure why he wanted to antagonise Potter so much, it certainly wasn't his fault that James was beaten. Maybe...maybe Draco just needed someone to feel as truly awful as he did right now.

Yeah right Malfoy, stop being so dramatic.

The look Potter gave Draco after that comment was positively glacial, and it almost made Draco wince.

"Don't be stupid Malfoy," Potter replied heatedly, "this is awful." He shifted as if to move closer to the bed but then thought better of it. Too right, Theo would have gone mental if Potter had touched James.

Draco scowled. "You don't need to tell me that Potter, we know how these things go by now." He wasn't sure why he was still talking to Potter. The Leader plan had failed and Draco was in no mood right now to resurrect it. He had patrol to do. "But thank you for those words of wisdom."

He pushed himself away from the wall, ignoring Potter completely and began striding towards the hospital wing doors. Pomfrey would keep James safe for tonight. But still, that was one student out of the whole of Slytherin.

The air in the corridor was frigid compared to the hospital wing and Draco almost wished to be in bed before he mentally kicked himself. He set off towards his quarter, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep them warm as he walked. He jumped about a mile in the air though when a voice sounded from his right.

"Where are we patrolling tonight then?" Potter enquired mildly.

Draco swivelled around in shock. "_We_ are not doing anything, alright? You have no idea what we Slytherins have been going through. _No idea_." He could feel his temper getting the better of him, but it was impossible to stop the words from pouring out of his mouth. "You really want to help? How about you go back say...four months ago and stop all this _shit_ from happening."

His voice echoed in the still corridor.

Draco's breath came out in harsh pants as he struggled to get himself under control again. He _wouldn't_ forgive himself if he lost it in front of Potter, of all people.

"Malfoy...I," Potter started to say weakly.

Draco cut him off. He didn't need to hear Potter's pathetic babbling. "Yeah, well that's just great, Potter," he spat out angrily, already brushing past toward the library, "Now why don't you get back to your little Gryffindors and leave all the work to people who actually care."

A moment later, Draco found himself staring up dazed at Potter from his position crushed against the wall. His back slightly bruised from the force Potter had put behind his shove.

"I care," Potter murmured angrily.

Draco would have rolled his eyes but something in Potter's shockingly green ones stopped him from moving. He just couldn't. The way Potter was staring at him was unnerving at best.

"I care," Potter repeated. His voice was softer but his eyes still held Draco in place. His arms no longer pinned Draco against the wall, but rather rested against Draco's biceps quiescently. Was he saying that he cared about Slytherin...or Draco? No, that was ridiculous. He was Harry Potter...he couldn't possibly give a flying snitch about what happened to Draco Malfoy.

Draco shifted uncomfortably against Potter's body, surprisingly hard for how weedy Draco had thought him to be, he had better things to do then practically being sexually harassed by Harry Potter. Finally tearing his eyes away from Potter, Draco moved his arms to shove him away when Potter stepped back.

"Thank you," Draco sniped sarcastically. He pretended to brush his clothes off when his wrist was caught by one of Potter's – abnormally large – hands. He frowned at the offending appendage, waiting for Potter to release him until he could put it off no longer and he looked up.

Draco almost gasped at the amount of emotion shining through Potter's geeky glasses. Almost too slowly to comprehend, Potter lowered his face closer to Draco's until it blocked out the light flooding through the small windows and Draco felt Potter's lips tentatively touch his own.

Well that certainly was unexpected and horrifying.

But as Draco tried to clarify in his mind, the kiss itself wasn't horrifying but rather the fact that it wasn't horrible was horrifying. However, that entirely confusing thought didn't stop Draco from reaching up with his hands and threading his fingers through Potter's mop of hair.

He pushed back against Potter as he apparently attempted to smother Draco against the wall with his body. His hands were running up Draco's back, underneath his shirt somehow, and freezing cold against Draco's warmed skin. But that didn't matter. Nothing mattered except getting as close as possible to Potter and this heat he seemed to radiant. The heat stopped the ache in Draco's heart and the guilt coiled in his stomach. The guilt he felt for letting down James and Alex...

Oh Merlin, what was he doing?!

Draco shoved Potter away from him almost violently and sprinted in whatever direction was away from Potter.

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**Gosh, I did like writing that one. How did it go for you lot?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to this lowly writer. I do not make money from these stories, they merely provide me with entertainment :D**

**I don't think apologies will suffice this time; my updating has been absolutely awful. **

***bows head in shame* **

**But as of now my summer holidays have officially started and I will update regularly. I promise this time!**

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He managed to make it to the Transfiguration corridor before he ran out of breath. His lungs burned uncomfortably but his lips seemed charred. He had practically flown down the Grand Staircase to the ground floor, his mind pleasantly blank as he searched for somewhere, anywhere he could just stop and...think.

What was he doing? What was kissing Potter meant to achieve? The plan had failed, _he_ had failed. And now it seemed like he was doing whatever he could to further mess things up. Potter might have said he cared but he certainly wouldn't when he found out the truth that Draco had played him in order to get more protection. Hell, even when Draco himself said that it sounded selfish and...well something a Slytherin would do.

The gut wrenching guilt he felt when that thought entered his mind just _wasn't _normal. He was Draco Malfoy; guilt was something other people experienced. He definitely shouldn't have been experiencing it towards Potter!

He slid down against the cold stone wall, his legs shaking too violently to keep him upright any longer.

Potter was a distraction that Draco couldn't afford to become involved with. James and Alex had both gotten hurt because of his idiotic plan. Blaise had tried convincing him that they would have been attacked anyway because of _who_ they were connected with, but Draco didn't buy it. He had angered those attacking Slytherins.

And if those threatening notes left in Draco's bag were anything to go by, they certainly didn't want Harry Potter to become involved in their escapades.

Hands trembling slightly, Draco slid his wand out of his pocket and fingered it regretfully. If only he knew who was behind the attacks. He would hit them so hard they'd have no chance to prepare themselves. The cowards.

Cowards who hid behind a stupid facade of righteous avengers.

After the war Draco knew his life would become complicated, even more so than before the war. Maybe because of how he acted, definitely because of whom he had been connected with, regardless of which side he had allied himself with in the end. His family had been shoulders deep in connections with _that _side and now Draco was paying the price.

He shook his head slightly. There was no point in sitting here, hiding from Potter. What would that achieve apart from making Draco seem like an absolute idiot? He was going to have to face Potter sooner or later and tell him to...

What did he want to tell him?

There was no way in hell that Draco could tell Potter about the Plan. He would get his face pummelled for sure, if not by Potter then by his Gryffindor lackeys who would surely by indignant about the devious use of their hero.

Draco didn't really fancy having a hundred plus pounds of angry Weasel beating his face in. Not to mention Granger had one hell of an arm on her. His jaw clenched at the memory of third year. That had been beyond painful and the bruise was something he hadn't wanted to explain either. Crabbe and Goyle were still sworn to secrecy from mentioning it.

Slowly he stood up and pushed himself away from the wall. He needed to patrol. If nothing else he did tonight was useful the least he could do was make sure the Slytherins were protected. The problem of Potter could wait for another hour or so, until he was in his bed. Blaise would be patrolling with Pansy. Theo would be staying with his brother and most of the Slytherins would be in bed hopefully at this time. His job tonight should be pretty straightforward if he was lucky.

As a shriek rang out in the distance, Draco mentally berated himself. Since when had he ever been considered lucky?

He practically slid around the corner in his haste to get to the girl – the shriek had sounded feminine – and only just caught the banister before he fell head first into the stone steps. The shriek came again, fear palpable in the sound. Draco set his jaw and gripped his wand tighter.

They weren't going to get this one, not on his watch. Not when he so close...

And there they were. About seven students clothed in black standing outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts Classrooms, pointing their wands at...nothing?

Oh shit.

Draco barely registered the thought before he spun on his heel and dived to the right. The corridor rang with several voices shouting curses that landed a few centimetres to the left of where Draco had landed. Rolling to the side, he quickly got to his feet and began running towards the stairs again. His only chance of getting away would be to start running towards the Slytherin Common Room.

A trap?

Draco had obviously underestimated how annoyed he had made these people. He never thought that they would actually carry out their threats.

As a curse sparked off the wall near his head Draco briefly considered firing some curses back, but the sheer numbers of them dissuaded him from that course of action. Seven against one was hardly fair. Draco may have been angry but he was still a Slytherin. Survival came first, revenge could wait until later.

He rounded the corner to the stairs, ducking as a bright blue curse singed the ends of his hair. Oh how he would hurt them when he wasn't immensely outnumbered...

Footsteps thundered behind him as his pursuers reached the top of the staircase, their voices ringing out as they fired yet another round of hexes at him, swearing as they missed their target. Draco smiled grimly as he put on a burst of speed and managed to hurdle over the banister at the end of the steps. He landed awkwardly, but ignored the pain in his knees.

Gathering his bearings, he sped off towards the courtyard. From there he could make his way to the Great Hall and down into the dungeons. Perfect, he doubted they'd want to follow him down there anyway. Draco knew several parts of the dungeons that were labyrinths to those who hadn't the knowledge of how to get out of them.

A bead of sweat slowly made its way down his cheek before Draco wiped it away impatiently. Robes weren't designed for their occupants to run marathons in. Already Draco felt hot and out of breath from his sprint, but he couldn't stop yet. He had almost reached the Great Hall when he collided with another, much smaller body which squeaked in terror as Draco ploughed into it.

Winded, Draco gulped breaths as pulled a small girl up from the ground. He almost swore as his eyes were drawn to the emerald green badge on her robes. His attackers were still on the stairs but he knew he had merely seconds to spare before they reached him.

And when they reached him they would reach her.

"You need to run, alright? Run towards the Slytherin Common Room, run as fast as you can and don't stop. Do you understand?" he said rapidly, his breath coming out in sharp gasps. She looked at him in confusion before looking over his shoulder. Her eyes widened almost comically and she started to run backwards.

"I should- I'll get someone to help!" she stuttered, fear evident on her young face. She was sprinting now and Draco knew he should start running again soon as well. His mind worked rapidly as he worked out his options. Making a split decision, he spun on his heel and headed towards the Grand Staircase. He needed to draw the attackers away from the Slytherin girl. If they caught her now, they would hurt her as well. He couldn't let that happen.

Not again.

He knew he was going in the stupidest direction ever. He told the other Slytherins to never, ever, _ever _run upwards if they were being attacked. Not only did the climb tire you out, it led you further away from the Slytherin Common Room. But this wasn't just about him anymore. If they wanted him they would have to catch him first.

"You lot, get him! I'll get the girl before she gets to their common room!"

Draco snapped. He skidded to a halt and shot several stunners at his followers, gritted his teeth as most of them missed. He dodged out of the way of several curses, letting a few of his own fly before they could get another round out. He smirked as he managed to hit a few stragglers at the back, but the smirk was quickly wiped off his face as a hex shot past his side, almost catching his arm.

He wouldn't be able to hold them off here, it was too open. But if he moved, he knew that they would get to the Slytherin girl. She wouldn't have been able to make it to the common room yet; he needed to buy her some more time. He obviously didn't have much of a choice.

Draco dived out of the way of another curse but it sliced him just below his ribs. He hissed and clamped his hand over the seemingly shallow wound. Cutting curse. Draco revised his previous assessment: They were _extremely_ pissed at him.

He growled slightly and constructed a messy shield charm which blocked a few nasty blue coloured hexes before they could hit him. He just needed to hold them off for a few more minutes, that's all. He just needed to make sure that none of them were able to follow the girl back to the common room. He let out a grunt as his side burned, but kept the shield charm up. They were advancing but there was nothing he could do. With the multitude of hexes hitting his shield it was a wonder he could keep it up at all let alone attack them back.

This was not looking good for him.

By some miracle he did manage to escape they would surely be back for him tomorrow night, and the night after...and the night after.

"Confringo!"

A force the size of a small explosion hit Draco's shield and propelled him into the wall behind him. He grunted in pain as his head struck the stone and his vision began to flash out of focus. He held on futilely as his wand was tugged harshly from his hand and he heard it clatter as it was thrown to the ground a second later.

Draco struggled to get to his feet but pain seared through his cheek as a fist crashed into it. He spat out blood as he attempted to defend himself. Pointless as a leg lock was quickly placed on him. Not a body bind though...they liked to hear their victims scream in pain. The remaining four gathered around him, gripping their wands threateningly.

He glared up at the apparent leader of the group as he advanced on Draco menacingly.

"You actually thought that Harry Potter would help someone like _you_," the leader spat, his voice familiar but Draco couldn't place it. "Harry Potter helped put Death Eater scum like you in Azkaban." The group sneered at Draco and a sharp foot caught him in the ribs.

Draco gritted his teeth through the pain, doubling up.

"You had an opportunity and you wasted it. Not all of us were lucky enough to fight in the last battle. Some of us were imprisoned as we prayed that our friends, our _family_ were safe." The leader let out a sardonic laugh, his cloak casting impenetrable shadows over his face. Draco couldn't see his face, but the grim pleasure was evident in his voice.

"So now, Malfoy, we're going to punish you."

Draco's eyes widened in panic, but he held his body still. If they thought he was just going to sit here and wait until they cursed him, they had another think coming. He threw himself forward and managed to bowl over two of the cloaked figures in front of him, and rolled sideways to dodge the other two reaching for him. Kicking out with his bound legs he managed to strike another in the face before clambering to his feet unsteadily. His head pounded with residual pain and he couldn't see his wand clearly enough to summon it to hand. He began to hop unsteadily in the direction in which he thought his wand was thrown, but he hadn't managed to move a foot before a slash of pain hit him in the middle of his back.

Draco toppled forwards, his arms fully disabled down thanks to the body bind he found himself in. Apparently his attackers decided they favoured his disability over his shrieks of pain. His eyes flickered upwards as a figure stood over him.

"I always despised you, Malfoy. Switching sides just before the final battle?" the figure barked, "Now that was sneaky even for you." Slowly he leaned forward until his wand jabbed into Draco's immobile neck. "But I know you're just like the rest of them...and I must do my bit for the Wizarding community to make sure _people,_" he sneered out the word, "like you are properly done away with."

Fear began to rise unbidden in him, but Draco couldn't do a blessed thing about it. All he could do was watch as the wand was levelled at him.

"Imagine asking some of your Death Eater friends to stage a mock attack just to get Harry Potter's attention. You thought we wouldn't find out? How pathetic." The leader snapped out.

"_Cruci-"_

Someone snatched the wand out of the leader's hand, holding it away as they stood flailing to reach it again. Unfortunately, it was the last person Draco wanted to see at this particular moment.

From his limited – and increasingly darkening – vision, Draco watched as Potter turned his sights on the thugs. His vibrant green eyes burned behind his ugly spectacles and his hand tightened flexed around his wand. Draco could only watch stunned as Potter quickly dispatched the last of the attackers and threw the leader to the floor carelessly, their wand broken next to him.

In the next second he had released the body bind on Draco and had flung himself to cradle Draco's head.

Possibly the worst thing he could have done, Draco mused to himself as pain exploded in his temples and behind his eyes. He must have let out a weak whimper of pain as Potter immediately began stroking his head soothingly.

Draco knew a little warning flag was waving in the back of his head as Potter's caresses slowly made his eyes slide shut, but he found himself utterly unable to care.

So what if Potter knew all about his plan now?

"Malfoy! Malfoy, wake up! I think you might have a–"

Who cared if Potter was going to tell his faithful minions who would almost certainly curse him worse than he already was now?

"Draco, you need to stay awake!"

Certainly not Draco, he was pretty content with surrendering himself to the darkness that was threatening to swallow him, regardless of Potter's panicked yells in his ear.

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**I am actually pretty darn excited about the Harry Potter 6 movie! *dances wildly* The trailer actually inspired me to finish these fics I have going! I do hope this chapter was atleast half way decent. It took me forever to write...perhaps a small case of writer's block?**

**There is an excellent remedy for that though...if you know what I mean :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I wish.**

**Updating twice in a week? It's a miracle! Or possibly just way too much free time on my hands... Anyhoo, this is the penultimate chapter. Last one should be posted in a few days.**

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Waking up was akin to breaking through metres of heavy water pressing down on him. The shock of consciousness led Draco to believe that his awakening was most probably a result of a spell, and sure enough Draco blinked his heavy eyes open to the lovely apparition that was Madam Pomfrey who, might he add, looked positively livid.

He smiled weakly in greeting, but as it morphed into a grimace he concluded it didn't convey his intentions very well. His head felt like it was balancing precariously on his neck, his body aching on the cold floor it was resting on.

"Drink these, Mr Malfoy," she ordered, rolling her eyes. Draco reached waveringly for the potions she held out to his grasp. He recognised the Pain relief potion, but its electric blue companion was a mystery. Knocking them back quickly, he blanched at their bitter taste. Sure enough, the throbbing in his temples faded to a dull ache and the pain in his side subsided.

Blinking, he finally felt well enough to glance around at his surroundings...only to freeze in shock. He was still in the Great Hall; the tables almost blocking his view of McGonagall towering over several cloaked figures near the doors to the entrance hall.

But that wasn't what surprised him.

Lining the whole east side of the hall seemed to be the whole of Slytherin house, save those few who were in the hospital wing themselves, their wands at the ready and fierce expressions on all of their faces. They looked ready for battle. At the very front of the throng was a familiar girl, scowling menacingly at McGonagall's detainees. Her arms were crossed over her robes but her emerald green badge stood out proudly from its black background. Hair was stuck to her face with sweat but the sight of her and his fellow Slytherins made Draco's heart swell with pride and an unfamiliar emotion that made his throat feel like a lump of rock was stuck in it.

"Yes, they arrived shortly after the staff did," Madam Pomfrey confirmed, gripping his chin to wave her wand over his split cheek. Draco winced as it stung, his eyes still focused on his house. "They were in quite a state over you, Mr. Malfoy. Quite right too."

She glared at his obstinate expression. "Hasn't anyone ever told you expressively not to fall asleep after a head injury? I'm quite positive _I_ for one have." She put her hands on her rounded hips and scowled down at him. "You're extremely lucky that Mr. Potter had the sense to alert us the minute he noticed something was amiss." Her voice took on a doting quality that had Draco rolling his eyes before he actually interpreted her words.

Potter?

Where had he gone?

Draco was definitely alone now, his head no longer sheltered by the warmth of Potter's body. A quick scan of the room demonstrated that the Gryffindor was indeed absent from the...festivities. He must have left soon after he rescued Draco.

Draco couldn't really blame him, he must have heard all about Draco's plan before he stopped Draco from being crucioed.

He probably despised Draco now.

Draco wasn't sure why a pang of hurt followed that realisation but quickly decided he didn't really care to investigate that particular mystery. He instead pushed himself slowly off the floor, ignoring Madam Pomfrey's cluck of disapproval. Limping somewhat due to his aching body he slowly made his way over to McGonagall, glaring when Slughorn tried to bar his way. He had the right to see who had attacked him.

"Mr. Malfoy..." McGonagall began sternly, her voice trailing off as she perceived his expression. Draco reckoned he must have looked awful for even McGonagall to back off. He stop just short of the restrained cloaked figures and waited for them to turn around.

Brown hair, brown eyes. The first face looked familiar even though it was twisted in a scowl of distaste. Draco gazed closer, his battered brain struggling to piece together who this boy was.

The realisation hit him suddenly and Draco let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. The sound seemed deafening compared to the silence that had enveloped the hall. Second year, the Chamber of Secrets. He had been petrified along with that ghost. He had also defended Potter in fifth year during one of their routine tiffs on the Hogwarts Express. What was his name?

Finch-Fletchley.

The fact that he was a Hufflepuff didn't even faze Draco. He was a Muggleborn. Thanks to the Muggle-born Registration Commission Finch-Fletchley had probably been in hiding or prison when the final battle had occurred.

Frankly, Draco didn't care what excuses he thought he could make for his actions. Several members of his house had been injured. What Draco wanted was revenge. He wanted them to feel pain just as he had. Feel fear just as they all had.

He let his wand fall out of his sleeve and into his awaiting hand. Within seconds he had the piece of wood jammed into Finch-Fletchley's ribs. He could hear gasps of horror behind him but he didn't care. He stared deep into the brown eyes in front of him, looking deep for something he needed to find. The Hufflepuff was shaking silently, his breath broken with fear.

"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall's voice rang out loudly behind him but Draco paid no notice.

He pressed his wand deeper into the boy's ribs, relishing in the glimmer of pain that flashed in his eyes. Only when he found what he wanted, did Draco step away, his wand withdrawing from Finch-Fletchley's side.

Sadness, loss.

It echoed deeply in his brown eyes, but Draco didn't let it affect him. He scowled at the bound boy in front of him and lowered his wand.

When Draco spoke it was calm but as cold as ice. "You're not even worth it."

Without another word, he raised his head and walked towards the Slytherins. He was still limping but he held his head high. Malfoy conduct insisted that he should run back towards the cloaked figures and curse them until they were nothing more than burn marks on the floor...but Draco was tired.

Besides from the applause that had started trickling from his house and rose in volume until it echoed around the stone halls, he reckoned his pride could stand the hit. As he reached his destination he met Theo and Daphne's eyes. He inclined his head in apology, surprised when they nodded sharply back at him.

They understood better than anyone the vengeance he had wanted to take, and yet they had taken it in their stride to stand by Draco's course of action...and they had obviously decided to follow his example.

Draco grinned as Blaise came forward and clasped his shoulder tightly, his eyes full of admiration mixed with endless relief that seemed to shine from his very soul. He gripped Draco's shoulder until it began to ache but Draco didn't complain, he was with his house exactly where he belonged.

* * *

Draco threw himself on his bed, his very bones feeling weary. It had taken what seemed like forever to persuade Madam Pomfrey to let him go and even longer to convince the Slytherins that they should stop celebrating and go to bed. His fellow seventh/eight years were still occupying themselves downstairs. Draco excused himself wearily in order to stew in his own feelings in an empty dormitory.

His side still stung from the shallow cut which he hadn't fancied getting Madam Pomfrey to heal in the Great Hall. It wasn't deep anyway and it was the least Draco could cope with after escaping with his life intact. He could have gotten off a lot worse considering.

He sighed lightly, his eyes staring unseeing at the canopy above his four poster bed. Green, like everything in the Slytherin rooms but it looked almost black in the faint light in Draco's room. He wasn't quite sure he felt. Relieved, definitely but a heavy weight was hanging on his heart. It seemed to clench whenever he thought about a specific Gryffindor.

Draco shook his head angrily. If Potter wanted to go and be such a bloody girl about it all, that was his prerogative. Draco certainly wasn't going to run back to him and beg for forgiveness. He had done what he needed in order to keep his house safe. If Potter couldn't understand that then he could go jump off the Astronomy tower for all he cared.

He pushed himself off his bed and stared into the mirror beside his wardrobe. He looked awful. His hair was in disarray and his eyes reflected the exhaustion he was feeling. No wonder Madam Pomfrey had been so reluctant to let him go. He dropped his eyes to stare at the rip in his robes. It was slightly tinged in scarlet red, stained from the cut underneath it.

Draco pulled his robes over his head, wincing as the skin stretched painfully as his arms moved above him. He threw them on the bed quickly, he would have to ask a house elf to repair them for him later. His attention was drawn quickly back down to his side. He could see the cut better with just his shirt on. It didn't look too bad, merely a few inches long and barely a half an inch deep.

He began to undo the cuffs on his sleeves only to whip around when a roll of parchment slid of a table in the corner of the room. Draco's wand was immediately in his hand at the sound and he felt a little foolish upon spotting the paper on the floor. He was certainly jumpy tonight, though he supposed it was understandable. He picked the parchment off the floor and crossed the room to the bathroom in order to dampen a cloth.

Placing himself in the mirror again he slowly slipped his shirt off, wincing as the cut came into view. It had bled slightly without the pressure of Draco's heavy robes on it. As Draco watched it oozed warm liquid down his skin to hit the dark trousers he was wearing. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Draco turned to his side, using the mirror to guide his movements. Hesitantly he pressed the cloth into his side, biting his lip when it burned tenderly. He raised his eyes back to the mirror...

...only to almost jump out of his skin when his eyes met another pair standing by the window.

"Merlin Potter!" Draco bit out, wincing as the cloth pulled on his wound. Potter's sudden appearance had made his hand jerk. The cut trickled some more blood out and down Draco's skin. "Now look what you did." He scowled at Potter, momentarily forgetting that Potter was already probably rather irate at Draco.

Potter didn't respond.

Draco managed to restrain himself a second later when a hand pressed against his skin.

"Let me."

Draco's throat felt peculiarly dry as Potter plucked the cloth from Draco's hands and began to clean his cut methodically. Where Potter's hand rested against Draco side seemed to burn his skin, sending tingles rushing through Draco's body. He couldn't quite bring himself to meet Potter's eyes directly, instead opting to watch him through the mirror.

Potter didn't speak, merely cleaned the blood from Draco's skin. The silence between them began to become unbearable. Every motion of Potter's hand was like torture on his skin. Thousands of questions were swirling around his head. What was Potter doing here? Was he furious at Draco? Was he, like Draco, thinking about that unexpected, horrifying (and absolutely perfect) kiss that Potter had decided to plant on Draco earlier? It seemed like an age ago considering all that had happened to him tonight.

Draco couldn't take it anymore. "Look Potter, I know I shouldn't have used like that and yes, you can take this as an apology if you_ really _want because you're not going to get anything better from me." He scowled at the Gryffindor and pulled the cloth out of Potter's hands. He couldn't concentrate when Potter was doing that to him.

Oddly, Potter didn't seem too concerned with Draco's outbreak, or even remotely angry. He grinned wryly and pulled his wand out of his pocket.

Now _that_ alarmed Draco.

Unbidden he almost took a step backwards away from Potter, fearing some sort of retribution but stopped when Potter rolled his eyes at him. Grasping Draco's wrist – in a gesture almost worryingly like earlier that night – he pulled him forward until his wand hovered over Draco's gash. Draco relaxed when it began to move in a simple healing pattern.

"I like to fly when I'm angry."

The words broke the silence between them and Draco looked down quickly in confusion. Why was Potter telling him this?

"See, when I found you the first night I had been out flying," Potter's eyes locked with Draco's own. A sense of dread filled Draco. Where was Potter going with this? "Although, you probably knew that right?" Potter let out a short laugh, his eyes oddly warm in contrast with the sound. "Hermione – Granger to you – had been nagging me about what I wanted to do after I finished school. She doesn't seem to understand that I need time, or atleast I needed to time to think about what I wanted. What I was good at."

A smile lit Potter's features. Since when had Potter had such defined cheekbones? Granted they were half hidden beneath those god damn awful –

Draco forced himself to listen as Potter continued.

"Anyway, I stormed out in a rage that night. I didn't want to meet anyone so I took a few items that usually help me." Potter looked down at his feet. Whether it was in embarrassment over his temper tantrum or something else, Draco wasn't sure.

Potter had stopped healing some time ago. Now his hands rested lightly on Draco's skin.

He stared at Draco, his green eyes unblinking. "I have this map. It's quite ingenious actually, I'm sure you'd like it." His left hand began to trail up and down Draco's side lightly. Draco struggled to find his voice.

He found it finally. "I'm sure I would, Potter," he replied sarcastically. Why would he care that Potter has a map?

Potter, completely undeterred by Draco's sarcasm, grinned. "Yes, see it gives you the position of everyone in Hogwarts at that current moment in time. I happened to glance at it as I left the Quidditch pitch."

Draco's blood ran cold. But- But...wouldn't that mean –

His eyes widened and he could feel his mouth gaping. "You mean...you knew what we were doing all along?!" Draco wasn't sure if he felt angry, relieved or frustrated. All his planning had gone completely to waste! "I had my nose and ribs broken...for nothing?!" he said quietly.

He gritted his teeth, slightly pleased when Potter looked sheepish, his hands stilling on Draco's skin.

"No! Not for nothing, Malfoy!" Potter insisted, "I didn't quite understand _why_ you were doing what you were until the second time." The way Potter shifted his eyes to the left made Draco raise an eyebrow.

"Alright, Hermione helped me," Potter confessed. Draco almost growled. Granger, and most probably Weasley, knew as well? He would get pummelled for sure.

Potter's hands started moving again.

"What you did for your house, Malfoy..." Potter almost looked at Draco in admiration, but then again _that_ couldn't be right. "It was amazing. But do you know what I think was the most amazing thing of all?" He stared at Draco, his eyes seemingly fathomless.

Draco hesitantly shook his head, his body subconsciously moving closer to Potter.

"The way you handled it in the end. You're truly a role model for them, you know." Admiration, no mistaking it, was written clearly on Potter's face now. Gently, he cupped Draco's cheek in one hand and Draco was stuck between drawing closer and pulling away.

Potter's face was coming closer to his now and Draco couldn't have pulled away if his life depended on it now. His breath hitched and his eyes closed in anticipation.

"I think you're amazing."

The words were whispered against Draco's lips before Potter's own lips crushed firmly against them. His hands cupping Draco's face roughly and really, the most Draco could restrain himself was fisting Potter's robes in his hands, pressing himself to Potter.

* * *

***Cackles manically***

**Sorry, sorry. I know: what an absolutely evil place to end a chapter...but I really will include the M stuff in the next chapter folks. It will be the last chapter, so thank you all for sticking with me as I ground through this one.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Last chapter. Enjoy.**

* * *

He stared at Draco, his green eyes unblinking. "I have this map. It's quite ingenious actually, I'm sure you'd like it." His left hand began to trail up and down Draco's side lightly. Draco struggled to find his voice.

He found it finally. "I'm sure I would, Potter," he replied sarcastically. Why would he care that Potter has a map?

Potter, completely undeterred by Draco's sarcasm, grinned. "Yes, see it gives you the position of everyone in Hogwarts at that current moment in time. I happened to glance at it as I left the Quidditch pitch."

Draco's blood ran cold. But- But...wouldn't that mean –

His eyes widened and he could feel his mouth gaping. "You mean...you knew what we were doing all along?!" Draco wasn't sure if he felt angry, relieved or frustrated. All his planning had gone completely to waste! "I had my nose and ribs broken...for nothing?!" he said quietly.

He gritted his teeth, slightly pleased when Potter looked sheepish, his hands stilling on Draco's skin.

"No! Not for nothing, Malfoy!" Potter insisted, "I didn't quite understand _why_ you were doing what you were until the second time." The way Potter shifted his eyes to the left made Draco raise an eyebrow.

"Alright, Hermione helped me," Potter confessed. Draco almost growled. Granger, and most probably Weasley, knew as well? He would get pummelled for sure.

Potter's hands started moving again.

"What you did for your house, Malfoy..." Potter almost looked at Draco in admiration, but then again _that_ couldn't be right. "It was amazing. But do you know what I think was the most amazing thing of all?" He stared at Draco, his eyes seemingly fathomless.

Draco hesitantly shook his head, his body subconsciously moving closer to Potter.

"The way you handled it in the end. You're truly a role model for them, you know." Admiration, no mistaking it, was written clearly on Potter's face now. Gently, he cupped Draco's cheek in one hand and Draco was stuck between drawing closer and pulling away.

Potter's face was coming closer to his now and Draco couldn't have pulled away if his life depended on it now. His breath hitched and his eyes closed in anticipation.

"I think you're amazing."

The words were whispered against Draco's lips before Potter's own lips crushed firmly against them. His hands cupping Draco's face roughly and really, the most Draco could restrain himself was fisting Potter's robes in his hands, pressing himself to Potter.

* * *

Draco felt like he was drowning, though having never actually experienced the sensation he concluded that might be a slightly useless analogy. But surely if kissing Potter- _Harry_ – was what drowning felt like, well Draco would heartily volunteer for that cause of death. He wanted desperately to pull away, take a breath, but every time Harry would press closer and Draco would willingly give up a few seconds of precious air.

Gasping slightly, he managed to find the resolve to tilt his head back and detach his lips from Potter, who instantly made a small noise of frustration.

Draco started when a wave of cool air hit him. Unsure of when his eyes had slid shut, he opened them and peered around the room. Potter was standing near his desk with his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles stood out starkly against the smooth colour of his skin.

"Potter-what?", Draco panted. What was he doing over there? He took a step forward, but stopped abruptly when the Gryffindor held up his hand. Disappointment welled in Draco, quickly followed by anger and he opened his mouth to verbally eviscerate Potter when he was, in Draco's opinion, rudely interrupted.

"Look, I'm sorry alright. I just- Do you know what you do to me?" Potter said quickly, his tone apologetic yet accusatory - something that should have been quite contradictory. His eyes burned slowly into Draco's, his glasses had slid down his nose and were in danger of falling onto the floor. They did nothing to hide the delectable flush on Potter's cheeks though and Draco could feel his attention slowly drift away from what Potter was saying and instead to his speculation of where exactly that lovely flush finished. Potter's neck...or lower?

Focus, Malfoy.

"Potter, what in the name of Merlin _are_ you rambling on about now?" Oxygen deprivation apparently stripped Draco of whatever manners he usually employed towards Gryffindors. He refused to apologise for his bluntness though, he'd rather eat his own hand, and instead gave Potter his patented glare. "I have to tell you, this running hot and cold thing is really starting to irritate me."

Potter shut his mouth with a snap. His eyes widened impossibly above his spectacles, which were dangling precariously now. "But you...you pulled away," he sounded unsure now. A hideous, absolutely downright foul frown made itself across his face.

Alright, it was irritatingly adorable.

Anyway, realisation dawned on Draco and he could feel his heart lifting slightly. How on earth could Potter think that he didn't want him? After all, Malfoys don't let just _anybody_ kiss them.

Draco, unwillingly, felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth and he rolled his eyes in a vain attempt to stop Potter from seeing the emotion he was sure had to be shining through them. "Am I the one who practically flew four metres away? No, that would be you Potter." He levelled an even glare at the increasingly speechless Potter, his eyes still wide behind his dangling glasses.

Experimentally, he took several steps towards Potter.

"I can assure you, I won't be running away this time." Draco stopped a few feet away and waited, crossing his arms over his still bare – and gradually chillier, now that his private heater had decided to have exasperating attack of conscience – chest. From the heated glance Potter gave to his chest, Draco assumed his nipples had pebbled from the exposure to the air.

When Potter had returned his gaze to his face, he raised a single eyebrow in challenge. Apparently that one single arched eyebrow was all Potter needed as a confirmation.

He fairly sprang into movement, attaching his mouth to Draco's without further questions asked. Immediately winding his hands back into Potter's hair, Draco sighed in contentment. Surely as soft as his own, though he doubted Potter had bought the same products Draco's mother had, Draco mused distractedly. It was springy yet had a certain crisp feeling to it that burned a desire in Draco to bury his face in it and breathe in deeply.

Merlin, he was far gone.

Pondering uncertainly as to when he had become so deeply enamoured with Potter's hair, and to the rest of Potter's delectable body, Draco almost didn't realise he had been pulling Potter towards the wall until he bumped into it softly. His eyes flickered open and met Potter's in surprise.

Potter was grinning wryly. "Bed's over there, Malfoy." Without breaking eye contact, he indicated to the left with his head. "I imagine it would be quite uncomfortable without a mattress," he said with a hesitant smile.

Instantly, Draco's mouth went dry.

Oh God, just the idea of Potter pushing him up against the wall and thrusting deep made his blood fairly burst out of his veins. A small whimper pushed itself out of his chest, unbidden, and Potter's eyes darkened when they read the heated desire in his own.

Draco found himself pressed firmly against the wall. The stones were cold and hard, especially on his bare skin, but having Harry Potter throw him up against the wall was a simply exhilarating experience. And then Harry's mouth was on his again, and Harry's tongue was hot in his mouth, and Harry's body was pressed up hard against his and they were kissing like the world could conjure up its next Dark Lord and they wouldn't care. Harry's hand was curled tightly around Draco's neck, but then they both drifted up higher to tangle into Draco's mussed hair.

Harry's hand curled around one of Draco's thighs and hefted it up to curl around his waist, their bodies pressed even more closely together from knee to chest and Draco could feel an answering hardness pushing insistently against his own. One of Potter's hands ran down his chest briefly, brushing Draco's nipples as he let out a groan. It continued its course until it reached Draco's waistband and Potter gently fondled his arse.

In true Gryffindor style, Potter managed to recklessly vanish Draco's trousers and pants, hopefully not along with other more vital body parts. Draco hoped Potter had the sense to leave those in anticipation to come.

Draco lifted his mouth from Harry's long enough to say, "I'm not even going to ask why you practiced wandless vanishing of clothing, Potter. And I'm especially not going to ask if Weasley offered to help you practice. That would certainly kill the mood."

Ignoring Potter's warning squeeze of his now bare arse, he gently fastened his mouth onto Potter's neck. He certainly hoped that the vanishing of clothes had only happened this one time, but marking Potter undoubtedly would help for a future reminder to everyone else.

Potter panted into his ear and muttered a few choice spells under his breath. He swiftly moved his now slick hand behind Draco and gently began to prepare him, his hand steady even as his breath seemed to rip its way out of his chest. And Draco's own wasn't steady. His mouth released Potter's skin with a final gentle kiss and shuddered a breath as one of Potter's fingers finally breached him. He reached out and grabbed a handful of Potter's shirt to steady him. Shirt...

Draco thumped Potter lightly on the arm to get his attention. "Still dressed Potter? Or is fucking whilst clothed a kink of yours?" he growled. As hot as it might be, it wasn't practical. Draco simply didn't fancy fabric burn from Potter's trousers added to the almost unquestionable scratches he would receive on his back from the stone wall.

With two fingers now curling inside of Draco, Potter let out a bark of a laugh and kissed Draco again hotly. "I'll leave the sexual deviation to you...Draco."

And with that, the Chosen One vanished his own clothes, removed his fingers and pressed inside Draco, filling him inexorably.

Harry paused once he was fully inside, kissing Draco deeply. Draco held on tightly as Harry began fucking him slowly into the wall, simply drowning him in the sensations. Maybe it was the thrill of where they were doing or maybe just because it was Harry Potter who was thrusting into him to assuredly, Draco could feel himself rushing quickly to orgasm and moaning like, well...Pansy.

Of course, she would curse him viciously if she ever heard him make that comparison but her absolute lack of skill with silencing charms was her own downfall.

Harry's thrust were perfection, almost teasing Draco to the brink but then withdrawing quickly. Every third stroke seemed to make white hot pleasure flow right down into his toes and tear a ragged gasp from his throat. Throwing back his head at one particularly deep thrust, Draco winced as his head cracked against the stone wall but even the pain of another head injury didn't seem to register through his blank thoughts.

"You know," Potter began conversationally, briefly burning through the haze that seemed to surround Draco's thoughts, "I don't think I've ever felt so terrified in my life." Draco struggled to meet Potter's gaze without his eyes sliding shut again, confusion he was sure was written across his face.

"There was such a lot of blood coming from the back of your head and when you closed your eyes..." Potter drifted off and his face took on a concentrated expression. He was thrusting hard now, pushing Draco to his very tiptoes on each stroke. Draco couldn't even seem to find the breath to moan anymore, his every nerve cell straining towards that orgasm which existed just out of his reach. Almost dreamily, Draco listened as Potter spoke again, close to his ear now. So close, that his every pant drew a small shiver out of Draco's body.

"Hermione had tried explaining it to me, but I hadn't listened. In fact I only seemed to realise when I saw you lying there, even paler than normal." He panted, a single drop of sweat running off his brow and down onto his neck.

Draco ignored the plebian slight on his complexion and instead focussed on the rest of Potter's sentence. "Realised what?" he replied breathlessly.

Potter bit his lip gently and impossibly seemed to push even further into Draco. "That ironically somewhere along the way I've fallen for a Slytherin."

Almost instantaneously a firework seemed to light up inside of Draco and all thought of replying fled from his mind. He shouted his completion which seemed to last a lifetime and dimly registered Harry doing the same.

* * *

When Draco drifted into consciousness the next morning, he stretched out an absent arm only to meet a disappointingly cold space next to him in his bed. Ignoring the hurt welling up inside him, he sat up quickly in bed. He stretched languidly, feeling a slight twinge of pain but something that was even more surprisingly.

Draco Malfoy felt relaxed.

These last few months in particular had been stressful to the extreme, but now that bird boy...Finch something was it? The name repeatedly escaped him. Anyway, he and his band of loyal followers had been apprehended. And, it seemed as though Draco had gotten his first good night's sleep since the term had started.

And yes, there was a crushing feeling in his chest upon realising that Potter hadn't even bothered to stay the night after well and truly fucking him into oblivion, but what did Draco expect. Potter was probably off doing his duty, saving some poor hurt creature in the forbidden forest. He rolled his eyes.

Draco was better off without him.

Or atleast, that's what he firmly told himself.

* * *

Potter was sitting at the Slytherin table.

The Slytherin table.

Had he Potter endured some freak fccident this morning and temporarily lost his sanity? Or perhaps gone inexplicably colour blind. Sitting at the Slytherin table these days was akin to being shunned socially for a year. Draco frowned lightly, before starting towards the Slytherin table, his gaze directed on one person who was currently buttering a piece of toast for James Nott, his hands bandaged heavily.

An amazed grin broke out across Draco's face and he momentarily forgot about Potter and clasped a friendly hand on James's shoulder. "Out of the hospital wing then?" he asked, still grinning. Relief flowed through him.

"Pomfrey _finally_ said I could go," James grumbled, rolling his eyes in apparent irritation at the long medical treatment he had received. He smiled at Potter gratefully when he was passed back the now buttered toast and quickly bit in. "She doesn't half go on at you," he said flinging crumbs everywhere.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Yes, but you know she's only do her job," he replied primly, ignoring the amused look Potter was giving him from the corner of his eye. The fact that he was being an enormous hypocrite couldn't crush his happy mood. He slid onto the bench between Potter and James Nott, reaching quickly for some bacon.

"Juice?" he offered politely to Potter, who shook his head quickly.

"No thanks, listen about this morning, you looked really tired so I didn't want to wake you," Potter smiled gently, and damn it all Draco could feel his heart thawing again. "I thought it best that someone sat with the Slytherins just in case. You missed McGonagall's speech." At Draco's questioning look, he elaborated. She explained to the rest of the houses what happened last night and told us all that Justin and his...friends had been expelled." Potter grinned and shoved a forkful of eggs in his mouth. "Oh, and she also awarded us both 100 points each."

At Draco's splutter, he winked. "Thought you'd enjoy that bit."

Surreptitiously, Draco glanced over to the Gryffindor table who looked a little lost without their saviour, before wrapping a gentle hand around Potter's neck. "I enjoyed last night a great deal more," he purred softly. And then frowned. "I didn't enjoy waking up cold though." He mock scowled at Potter who was staring rather intently into his eyes, the amusement quickly being replaced by arousal again. He seemed to realise what Draco had silently been saying.

_Don't leave me like that again._

"Maybe," Potter whispered tentatively, "we could try it again sometime." His hand had crept sneakily onto Draco's thigh under the table.

Draco smirked. "I'm thinking that's a given Potter. I've got you now and I definitely don't intend to give you up." Placing a gentle kiss on Harry's lips, he smiled again.

* * *

**The End.**


End file.
